Colours of the past

The man said, “I’ll tell you a story son.”

The little boy replied, “Yes please go on!”

“You see those trees in our backyard?”

“They didn’t used to be black and charred.”

“What do you mean?” The small boy asked,

“These burnt old trees were lush and vast.

I’ll tell you the  story, so listen close,

The story of how the trees first rose.”

“A bird dropped a seed from a land far away,

And it planted itself, still existing today.

But that seed is not how it used to be,

For that very seed, it is now a beautiful tree.”

“Seeds here and there, scattered about,

The trees sprung up, without a doubt.

They were big and green and pretty too,

And best of all, the skies were blue.”