A plant outstretches its frame,
in steady growth and tenor;
A new leaf still wrapped unto itself,
must unfold to meet the world.

A universe appears,
and another dissipates;
Yet a leaf is born,
between the stars and dirt -
from the dust and decay.

A sapling reaches for sun and rain,
as I search for pen and paper.
After all,
We all do what we can.

Old lady cradling a baby
make it home
"where did you get this baby " granny
"nursery " the old lady note
Solicitous for baby
she hassle alot .
Her senility got her sick
She was frail as lamp for epoch
Through the window , solos tot
watched her fade away
Fine morning she laid lifeless ,
leaving a note which elucidate
"Care and water this little tree , it will bear my blessings for gen z "

A fresh breeze of  summer hits my face
as your comes up short without water to embrace
and as the air turn up swiftly
clouds began to appear suddenly
makes rain to quench thy thirst
and yet you have grown drunk
that thou couldn't drink a drop

So as frosty air fill up by snow
leaves colored all soft and white
and you no warmth sent to freeze the night

Then comes the bloom of your secrets
some bright flowers and fruits
coming to those who are needed
to bear more everlasting loot

Lastly, it was the peak of death
when everything dying was beauty
you held strong to give out your last breath
to leaves that have fallen
stepped to a crisp
an eminent way to go out like this
thus you shall live forever being
You from the very start your own sapling

Little sapling growing between a rock and a hard place.
Weathering what life is surrounding you. No friends of yet
but you are only a sapling give it time. Moments passing
watching scenery elope to shifting seasons beauties.

Sea air invigorating as rain trickled from above dancing on
your now maturing leaves, tickling as each one weaved its
way down, like teardrops they descended on there journey
of life carrying on.

The Cliffside sighs, and teardrops of rocks descend,
woeful of those this motion that swept away, beauty
that clung silently there. The sapling is of branches
and leaves giving needed shelter to tired wings.

Seasons whisper by as the sun and moon dance above
her gaze. Roots delicately weave deeply into the Cliffside
keeping here steady, for if it were to sigh again her fate
steadfast in this place between a rock and a hard place.

Her leaves happened upon a blossom, so delicate in
its serenade of colour against the harsh rock face.
Like a parent when winds were bleak shielding its
frailty with branch and leaves, it only lost a petal this time.

She flowered in the seasons, blossom invigorated the
surroundings of what was bleak, like teardrops of love
for a time they painted vivid etchings on the Cliffside
till they faded nourishing those of lesser stature.

As she yawned on the morning rising above the
horizon, she felt motions upon her leaves.
Never in her time had she felt such gentle touches,
as palms glided over her foliage.

Feeling the breeze from up high, the cliffs edge she
had flourished in growth, now little eyes saw her
in full blossom as the seasons had changed.
Laughter ensued when gusts eloped with blossom.

Pink and light shades of magenta danced between
children, a fence keeping wondering thoughts safe
from the fallen dreams at the bottom of the Cliffside.
Leaves caressed the winds and she was content.

Yes I left,
I took a break
Now I am back
and here to stay.
Was I missed?
Or hated strongly
My apologies, my saplings...
I'm here for you now.

You left me burning in the agony of our love.
But I collected those ashes and preserved them shut.
Buried the bottle of our memories under the willow tree.
And watched in awe as a small sapling broke free.

With patient hands, and caring heart,

a mother's love was shown

in the tender, stubborn saplings,

she loved enough to grow.

She listened to their tearful woes,

she kissed their hurts away;

She offered up the best advice

and tried to show the way.

She taught them well,

and scolded when they failed;

She laughed with them and played with them

and watched them blaze a trail.

She let them fall, she let them choose,

she watched them from the dark;

for a mother's greatest heartache

is watching them depart.

If not for the strength of mothers,

if not for their watchful eyes

the saplings would have shriveled,

curled up,

and died.

So here is to the mothers.

the ones that try their best;

know that we saplings love you,

to this we can attest.