Tree of Life:

by Scott Cole   Feb 5, 2015


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.

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