The wind was blowing The tree fought back But it lost its balance Was no longer on track The roots lost their grip They were now freed Before the tree fell It dropped a last seed After a year a shoot poked through A new tree was born And making a debut
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Beautiful poem. That’s the cycle of life
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And so it should be
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Indeed.
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Hang in there, little tree! 🙂
Thanks for contributing to the prompt today.
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Unfortunately the tree is no more, but there are many more. The storm was too much for it.
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I was thinking of the little one making its debut. 😉
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