Years ago was planted a magnolia tree
A poor twig bent and leafless...
Never had much hope that it would be
Anything more than just a tree
But it took angry storms and brutal sun
Lost many branches along the way
Drew it's nutrients from the soil
But year after year it stayed the same
Not one new leaf let alone a bloom
No one would notice or see
It remained the crooked and immaterial
Barely even a tree
And then one day while tending the green
There was a tap on my shoulder
I looked up unable to speak
The little tree had grown older
It stood so high above my head
Blooms bursting with such scent and pride
Strong and tall and arrow straight
I was so happy that I cried
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