A Tree with No name or identity.

How we see growth in nature through different eyes.

I wind the flow of movement,
down to a snail's crawl.
A worm arrives to plan it's map.
The grass's tongue speaks out,
roots don't see sunlight, only
darkness. I talk the grass to sleep,
even the worm is bored with talk,
and want to join us on a walk.

I pass a tree coughing up earth,
with seasoned seeds of aging aches.
Needing some exercise, no matter
how long it takes. I follow its growth
in light years if needed, until the
advance in stature, and stability.
Even with all its flaws, like a child
green, but allowed to grow and flourish.