The Seed

I stare up, tiny, from the ground,

In awe at the strength these trees have found.

They have battled the strongest wind, the harshest rain,

The fire that scorches and the ice that bites with clawing pain.

They have seen the times their leaves drift to the floor,

And those when their greenery comes once more.

They wear bark scarred with the stories of their past,

And the wind is filled with the seeds that they cast.

It is then that I realise, finally see,

That once upon a time, these trees were me.