Tree of Life

There’s the littleĀ saplings,
nestled in bassinet plant pots
requiring constant love
and tender care,
younger siblings
to the teenage white birches
who just manage to stand
by themselves and find their roots.
Some grow to great oaks,
some grow to redwoods,
who test their height
and strength, who build
their canopies for their newborns,
for families.
And as we age we become
the leaning palms, retired
to beaches, to bask in sun,
but no matter the year
we label ourselves,
we still have the branches,
we still have the height,
to carve our names
in the sky
before
we
fall
to
(s)lumber.