Knowledge Poem by Bob Blackwell

Deep beneath our darkened earth a seed has ripened,
it is ready to sprout, and dash with strength,
to the surface of our world.

Bravely it bends its tiny head, pushing out, questioning the
beginnings of its growth, a root, a starting point, and
a pale white shoot that struggles up in search of light.

As dawn comes a warm glow illuminates our tiny shoot,
and the changes start immediately. It thickens, grows,
stronger, and changes colour as it feeds on sun and rain.

First a lovely light green that is so beautiful to see.
As it develops it darkens, turned brown by the sun,
side shoots appear, branches are born.

Tiny leaves then grow, pale green at first, so young
they look, like a puppies smile, a childs first step,
a birds first flight, an idea that has just been born.

Branches mature, more shoots become twigs,
and leaves begin to multiply, trunk now fat and
broad as our tree grows larger from the light.

Soon it blossoms and fruit is formed, seeds are born
to fall to earth, with time they will struggle up against
great odds, to create yet again another tree.