Against the wall you grow.
To see what you were, took slow.
A tree, threatened to be felled.
In protest, to save you, I yelled.
So, everyday I've watched you.
Gave you water, talked to you, too.
Your emptiness reminded me of, well, me.
And I thought 'If I were a tree,
what is it I will be? '
I thought 'What fruit shall I carry,
what tree shall the world see? '
Then, that one glorious day,
after four years have passed away,
I went to sit under my tree,
and saw, after all this time,
you are a mulberry!
Jacqui Broad
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-story-of-the-mulberry/
