My father planted an ancient tree
In foreign soil which starved its roots
The tree developed, gnarled and twisted
Displaying its resilience with every inch
From my father I inherited a tree
Which I preserved in a pot of sacred dirt
Its branches stretched, its flowers bloomed
But it could not lay down its roots
I gave my son a tree
Both knowing it could no longer stand
Unless – he did what I could not
And returned the roots to their native soil
My son left today with our tree
To find for it a proper home
Where man and tree and earth are made one
Through their ancient eternal roots
