A seed in need of
water: to quench her thirst.
Sun: to bloom, to sprout up, to grow.
Companionship: aged seeds who have been here before,
returning from past seasons.

The seed is blown into a field with
plants already growing,
and gently buried in the damp, rich sod.

The other, older greens
shield the little flower,
barely poking out from
the safety of the dirt
from ravaging winds,
from hungry creatures.

Years fly by,
like the leaves on a billowing day.
As she grows in height and age,
her protectors, her supporters
dwindle away
by the elements and passing years.

The gusts bring her
little seeds
that land beside her,
just as she did
three short years ago.

Bending her branches, she covers
the young, little sprouts.
She holds a new role,
responsible for a new family.

She will teach these youngsters
the way to
live,
survive,
thrive and succeed.

Together they will grow,
until it is her time to go.

For as the frost comes,
as it does with every coming year,
her time is up,
she must depart,
leaving it up
to the little sprouts
to continue the legacy of this field.