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by Scott Cole Feb 5, 2015 category : Life, society / meaning of life
Let's all pretend for a minute or two, We were all little blossoms on the Tree of Life we grew. And from the many branches we were scattered about, Blooming and growing from every sprout. Each little blossom is happy and free, Each has his own purpose upon the tree. Some of the blossoms are older and wise, They have been with the tree since the beginning of time. While the other blossoms are younger and weak, And have been with the tree for only a week. But all of the blossoms would work as one, Protecting the tree from any harm done. And as the older blossoms struggled to hold on, They fall from the tree and then they are gone. But the younger blossoms so eager and true, Would replace the empty sprouts where the old blossoms once grew. Now the many branches are replaced with new life, From each sprout a new bloom upon the Tree of Life. And as the winds blow on the older blossoms still fall, Leaving only the younger blossoms to grow and stand tall. As the blossoms get younger while the Tree of Life grows old, It remains young at heart because of the fresh blossoms it holds. For each have a purpose each have a will, Each little blossom have a duty to fulfill. For the old blossoms may die and fall to the ground, But long lives the Tree of Life of which they were once bound.