This beaten path
started as meer footsteps
in the woods.
These trees I grew to know
have become giant
over the years.
But this one has fallen.
I look at it and say
'My child
my son I nurtured
how have you fallen,
how have I failed'
I find you
dead, gone, forgotten.
One lone stump
in a world of giants.
One speck of brown
in a land of moss.
A child then appeared
and said
'He isn't dead
he is giving life,
He isn't gone
he is now part
of this important path,
And he isn't forgotten
he feeds this forest
and he becomes one of them,
all of them.'
And I look again
a tiny sprout,
peaking out of the soil
that has collected
on top of my son.
And I say
'My daughter
it is safe
this forest will care for you
and you will become a giant.'