A piece of writing

Growing

A seed was planted

And in its place stands a mighty sequoia

That all see and are awed

Few, if any, remember

The fragile, vulnerable seed

That could have been an easy target

In the unforgiving wild

Or the tender seedling

That could have met its end

At its beginning

After a confrontation with the elements.

I look around and see

Giants whose prowess

Leaves me breathless

Skillful Warriors

Whom I admire and long to resemble

Yet when I look at me

All I see are green, supple twigs

Nothing like the sturdy, woody branches

Of the specimens that surround me.

But now,

As I have gained in height

As my roots have extended themselves

And burrowed deeper into the earth

Coming closer to my Point of Anchorage,

I realise that time brings rewards

And patience is the tool

That will allow me

To extract the precious ore

From the sediment of the experiences

That wash down to me in the stream of time.

So although it is imperceptible

Growth is happening

Every experience is a blessing

There is no way to run ahead

I accept myself

For where I am

It is up to me to absorb

And synthesise the nutrients in the layers

That my roots have penetrated so far

So that I can send them even deeper down

And reach my branches even higher

To one day join the summit of the forest

And take my place

As a stable part of the green canopy

To shelter the seedlings under me.