The tree bursts from its seed, grasping for the warm glow of light shimmering just above the brown waves of soil holding it down.

It reaches higher still towards the canopy of flame-coloured leaves that ignited just months after it's first release from Earth.

The tree's roots dig deep underground, bracing the tree for the cold and harsh flurries of white gold that will soon frost every surface visible to the bright blue sky above.

Frozen in time, dormant in this pale wonderland, it waits.

It's first leaves come and go as the harsh winds and flooding rains of spring fall- The weight growing, growing-
Vanishing.

The heat causes all flooding and weight to fall away, leaving the small tree to burst with blooms of lime, forest, and celery green.

And it now holds personality,
Able to finally build a life and home in it's branches.
<SUMMER>
The winds brush against her bark, a blue bird borrows in her arms, for they are a welcoming home for her babes, a squirrel stores his acorns beside her
thickening roots, and she ages another year.

The leaves shiver and shake as the brown tire swing rocks under the weight of me.
Quoting lyrics from my favorite bands and reading passages from my favorite books, I feel my soul age another year.


The cycle begins again...
With changes.

Fall includes hot cider and light reading under her flaming colors.
I build her an army of snowmen to keep her company as we nap through winter.
In spring I plant some flowers nearby, and they admire your ancient bark.
And in the summer we start again, my days spend singing and reading to you.



And then I was gone and you continued to flourish,
Year after year and season after season.

Bravery is not,
Easy to find,
In a culture such as mine,
We often define,
An incorrect view of what is good,
What deserves praise or should,
Be acknowledged by those who could,
Hand out honours.

Bravery is not,
In shooting a gun,
At another man's son,
Or in knowing you've won,
So with a buffer going for the glory,
So you can have the best story,
Of how you scored the key,
Winning blow.

Bravery is not,
A foolish choice made,
That through luck somehow paid,
Off but always weighed,
Down your chances of success,
Though you always said: "Yes",
When asked: "Was it for the best?"
After time passed.

Bravery is,
Admitting to yourself that you,
Might have been wrong to,
Assume what you always knew,
About yourself was definitely right,
And that things might,
Not be as black and white,
As you thought.

Bravery is,
Telling people you were wrong,
That you don't belong,
In the category you were in all along,
And in fact there's more to the truth,
When it comes to you,
And getting to know who,
Lives in your skin.

Bravery is,
Disagreeing with normality,
Arguing with the morality,
Put forward by the society,
That thinks its way is above,
All else, And loving who you love,
And being proud of,
**WHO
YOU
ARE