Young Tree Poem by robert dickerson

I am a young tree
propped up with props
in heaven's face I push my leaves,
towards earth my roots.

Sometimes I am dazed
by the fiery sun and droop
but when the rains refresh my face
hitch up straight.

Sometimes, summer eves,
fireflies make me
a catch of wandering stars
as the river slides by.

But the winter you've heard
wailing it's reasons
I'm telling you I know now
is just another season.

And if the tale told
by the robin is true
Spring will always return
the robin too.