Counting Rings

In the woods I spy a sapling,
It often grows without much happenin’.
As it grows it makes some friends,
Shrubs and bushes to greetings send.

Soon, though, over bush it grows,
As the sapling quite well knows.
It’s so unnatural you see,
For a sapling to remain short and puny.

Malicious words the bushes say,
‘You’re no longer of us, go away!’
The small tree new company must find
Others that share his growing mind.

The bark will stretch, the limbs must grow
And roots go deeper to ready for snow.
Leaves they change thru’ seasons four
While sap flows and rings keep score.

So the tree must find new friends,
Ones that will stick thru’ till the end.
Trees this size are few between
Amidst them dance the dusty sunbeams.

Conversing with a tree he did
With a canopy that spread.
The tree knew just what to say
But no buds had he for leaves that May.

On the North side of said tree,
Lived a nest of bumble bees.
The bees did sting and fly about,
Trusting in the tree so stout.

No confidant in this tree we find,
Having all made up in his mind.
Reducing life to facts and figures,
Is not of God nor shows His pleasure.

The bark will stretch, the limbs must grow
And roots go deeper to ready for snow.
Leaves they change thru’ seasons four
While sap flows and rings keep score.

So our tree is now grown old,
It stand alone thru warmth and cold.
In a hedgerow we can see,
The large and spreading canopy.

Our tree is massive and in it’s prime,
A home in it small animals find.
It breaks the wind and blocks the snow,
Rocks around it farmers throw.

But lo, on yonder peak do see,
Another massive and wise tree.
Along with that our tree makes seed,
To spread around his progeny.

The bark will stretch, the limbs must grow
And roots go deeper to ready for snow.
Leaves they change thru’ seasons four
While sap flows and rings keep score.