We are still only shrubs.
Soon, we will grow into majestic trees.

There will be many a freezing winter,
Tearing us apart with the dark embrace of snow.
There will be many a scorching summer,
Evaporating all but our tears.

But that does not mean we shouldn’t wait for the fruitful spring
Bringing us smiles,
Or the romantic autumn
Where our leaves and memories dance among the skies.

So onward
To a terrifying but beautiful future.