Aren't Trees Alive?
All those pretty hues,
Of green amongst the blues,
Their long brown feet?
Blossoming the ground beneath.
Oh! The tremendous trunk,
Its arms in every direction,
Lil foliage materializing,
Under the radiant sun,
Dancing joyfully and smiling,
With a light breeze on the run.
Beauty, magnificence, still untold,
Wonders of pigment, flowers are born,
Fruity freshness our heart devours,
Finding shade in fearless warmth.
Oil, wood, medicine, food,
Everything for daily use,
Respire, they surely do,
Even make their own food,
Hormones? Their soul's seat,
Do perspire losing heat.
Seeds, saplings, plants survive,
Slowly, as they reach that height,
Lastly, the final stage arrives,
Yet, trees aren't alive.
-N
