I was intended to be a flower. A delicate beauty that would bud And bloom. So like the Spring I would come And go Quite subtly about my way. Bending and wilting As the sun told me when. Obeying the rhythms of Nature. I was supposed to shed petals So soft and so gentle Upon the Earth for all to admire. Waiting for someone to pluck me on up And carry me home to display. But something must have gone wrong When they placed my bulb in the ground. Perhaps just a bad patch of soil? Or not enough water or shade? Because to my intentions' greatest dismay I grew tall and proud into a Tree. Sturdy and strong like an ox Only letting sun pass where I choose. Reaching out far to the corners Of the Sky. Helping the world to breathe. Telling all who behold me: I am Alive. I am Real. I am Free. Deeply rooted in all that is Me.