The Sapling

There’s a sapling
That’s been growing in my garden.
For quite some time.

It seems weak. Fragile. And bare.
It has nothing to offer.
Nothing to give.

The grass around it grows tall and wild.
It can’t be tamed, coaxed or reasoned with.
But no matter how much I cut it down to size
It grows back. I can never stop it.

And every time I take that mower out
I look at the sapling.
And for just a moment
I want to use all my strength
To break that sapling in two.

It doesn’t seem fair.
Why is it allowed to grow
When everything around it
Must be destroyed?

Because it’s not like the others.
You may see only a sapling
But I see a thousand different branches
All waiting to be born.

I see what doesn’t yet exist.
But could come to pass,
If the sun should shine
And the planets align.

I see a tree.