Born of the Earth, set to the Sun
Purposeful life, there only is one
Or so He thinks, the sprouting Seed,
Blind in the wisdom, of his own Creed.

The light throughout is owed to He,
For even the stars grow His young Tree
Some One was heard, some Thing was said,
Fear now stricken, the Once Bright now dead

Hurried to save the path once knew,
Forgets the others, Who made He true
Follows the Light into the Dark,
There, surely, will be made this new mark

“They will look to me, from below,
Ready to die, just to see me grow.”
His mind consumed, his world run,
Those once loved, He started to shun

A strange Eagle, birthed to the tree,
Flies to Her perch, so they both may see
“Who is You?” Whispers the Bird
Takes to the sky, not another word

Ponders Her query, stuck be He
Who else to share with? The lonely Tree
“Where will I go? Who am I from?
To Who’s magic Beat, is My great Drum?”

From all the way up, a Bud falls,
Hitting the ground, He silently calls,
“Too early in life, You are Gone,
A flower you’d be, only by dawn”

“You are Mistaken, but not wrong
I am near your roots, where I belong.
Born of the Earth, set to the Sun
No one is dying, We are all one.”