All of us are trees

All of us are trees
At the trunks it is calm
Denizens can traverse their girth
With slowness
Vines and weeds and flowers
Can spring up around them
With sureness and room for growth
With enough bending and patience
To fit beneath every hoof and paw
While providing food for the birds
Who huddle around the towers with reverence

Whereas at the top it is all chaos and contest
Flowers grow up there too
Vying to possess the sun
Up there the respective branches of the trees
Drum against the soft skin of the wind
Against each other too
In the insane and nearly silent hope
That there can be victory
In the very place where victory is questionable
Where there is only the temporary
Necessary illusion that one thing overcomes another.

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