Tree Soul

As I reflect on what a tree means to me
I reflect on its leaves
and how they can dance in the soft wind
and blow away with a force
changing colour with each magnificent season 
and then die so gracefully 
I reflect on how it's roots are alive underground
moist soil and pitch black darkness
keeping them in continuous rebirth of beauty
until the day they themselves lose their soul.

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Comments
Roots alive underground
I guess I like the way you yourself are not present in this one, I've tried this effect. In this poem it comes off perfectly
Metaphor and all you can see it. Thank you dear Rory.
Or maybe it's on how we adapt and we are much of nature, by law, as is the tree?
Also yes. 🌹