The Patient Tree

At first, I was nothing, just a little seed in the soil,

The darkness pressed on me and all around was turmoil.

I yearned to see the blue, blue sky, that stretched on and on,

But I remained the same, and I grew a bit forlorn.

Then one day, I sprouted out, just a proud little shoot,

I rejoiced as my patience had finally borne fruit.

I gazed up at the older trees with respect and with awe,

I thought they were perfect; they didn’t have a flaw.

I struggled onward, a mere sapling, drinking in the warm sunlight,

The younger shoots admired me because of my height.

I waited for my leaves to unfurl, my stem to grow and spread,

But nothing happened, and I remained as thin as a thread.

Time flew and soon I was a sturdy young tree,

With supple branches and leaves, but I was smaller than I had aspired to be.

I wanted to be bigger and better than I was - I wanted to bear some fruits,

But I learned to be happy with what I had, digging deeper with my roots.

Gradually I grew into a full-grown tree,

With widespread boughs and fruit galore,

I had a strong trunk and deeper roots, and now I wanted no more.

Over the ages, I had become wiser and did not grumble,

When the men arrived with a glinting ax to make me tumble.

As I look back on my life,

Full of happiness and strife,

There is one thing that I have learned:

Patience gives you the things for which you have yearned.