Tale of a Metal Tree

In a deep wood there lay in the ground,
A hulled potential for life unbound.

As a seed she started, true to form,
But she of metal made, not the norm.

Fed from the minerals of the earth,
the sun, the rain did not give her birth.

She emerged from the soil, strong and true,
cold and smooth as upward she grew.

Tall and stout no branches had she,
sturdy in the wind and foliage-free.

Shy she became, for different she felt,
in this beautiful wood where she dwelt.

She thrilled in Spring festival of colors,
marveled at how dropped seeds brought others.

Swirls of life, such charm she beheld,
the hum of bees, her being compelled.

Rainbows and sunsets brought joy to her soul,
“If I had friends, my life would be whole.”

Not wanting the guilt of intrusion,
she waited for hints of inclusion.

In silence she waited, watched and yearned,
till all their ways and manners she learned.

They never once feigned interest in her
metallic sheen or high-rise grandeur.

Left out of Midsummer games of delight,
of Autumn’s parade of foliage bright.

Sadness crept around her patience there,
and soon left her heart in deep despair.

With nothing to lose, she then spoke out:
“Why ignore me and why leave me out?

Why won’t you let me join your throng,
your windy dances, your leafy song?”

With collective gasp, they stared in shock
silence they kept, protecting their flock.

A sapling nearby, brazen in youth,
spoke up to utter the unspoken truth.

“You are too big, too heavy, too cold.
You’re not like us, your presence too bold.”

Struck to the core, left speechless and bare,
things she had felt, not able to share.

She thought of all for which she’d pined,
but truth they spoke- not of their kind.

She longed to wave on lingering breeze,
to shed some bark and renew her leaves.

To the moon she cried in desperation
to that shiny sphere for consolation.

“Oh, light of the moon, please hear my cry;
for in despair I shall surely die.

Why has Nature played this cruel trick-
creating me cold and hard and slick?

What purpose have I, must I grow here-
where birds don’t nest and butterflies fear?”
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“Dear one so deeply alone and far,
dispel the gloom, accept who you are.

Take courage from the beauty around,
a Royal Child you are of the ground.

Stand tall you are a majestic tree,
unique in this land, so strong and free.

What I see from my post high above,
is a landmark below who is full of love.

The others dance and sway at your base,
breathe in their spirit, drink in their grace.

They know you not, for quiet you’ve been.
show them your love and your strength within.

They’ll learn to respect and to include,
no longer to feel that you intrude.

Through you, they’ll grow to a greater height;
dance a duet in my warm moonlight.”

“I see now that I content must be,
for different I am, but still a tree.”

Tentative at first, she reached for them.
silence remained, her efforts condemned.

In pain, she bound her wounds and withdrew-
lost, alone, not knowing what to do.

Down at her base, a sapling she spied.
Though spindly and yellow, still wide-eyed.

The thin sapling shivered in the wind,
then meekly asked, “Would you be my friend?”

Taken aback but thrilled none the less,
her inner feelings hard to express.

“Of course young sprout, I would be pleased.”
Her loneliness began to be eased.

They talked and shared and laughed all the day.
With joyful soul her pain slipped away.

Sheltering strength she was from the wind.
With heavy roots she steadied her friend.

Together they grew in love and strength.
Cautious eyes watched them from great length.

The walls she’d built ‘round her heart grew thin.
Others soon joined to welcome her in.

Within her stout roots they learned to weave;
glad they were her cover to receive.

With new eyes then she beheld their ways
Like her children, playing away the days.

As years flowed by in her worth she believed.
Inner peace and harmony she achieved.

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Accept who you are without regret,
stand with love and don’t forget,
The uniqueness that only you possess,
helps you and others to truly progress.