Life in a Seed

Today a friend said something to me
about how our lives revolved around trees.
It's a funny thing how true he was.
We all cling to trees like a mossy, green fuzz.
Almost as if the life within them seeps into our veins
making all petty thoughts seem vain.
When you're getting life from something,
and someone steals it from you,
it feels like your heart is breaking.
That's how I feel everytime I see someone slicing up a tree.
They don't know whose memories that bark contains.
What fingerprints underneath it may remain.
How can they slice up such a beautiful thing?
Don't they see what a tree can nourish in everything?
The happiness of which it can make me sing?
I just want them to see that there is,
and should always be,
something more important
than the paper they hope to be exporting.
There are teenagers leaning, smiling.
Colors changing, making beauty.
Children playing, climbing.
Adults watching, remembering
when it was them feeling nature's life.
Letting it lead them to better places.
Places that made them who they are,
Made them want to save that life
because there is always some one who needs
the life that starts as a seed.