A tiny seed, a hopeful start,
The gardener came, with gentle heart.
He tucked it in the earth so deep,
While I, a little one, did peep.
A bottle palm, so small and frail,
Beside my path, began its tale.
We started small, in sun and rain,
Two different lives, upon the plain.
I felt so big, so strong, so bold,
The little palm, a story told
Of fragile leaves and slender stem,
I towered over it, back then.
But seasons turned, and time went by,
The palm grew taller, reaching high.
It stretched and swayed, with graceful ease,
While I felt small, beneath the trees.
The bottle palm, so proud and grand,
A silent watchman in the land.
It stood so firm, with sturdy grace,
A smile upon its leafy face.
We shared a space, a common ground,
Where roots entwined, and life was found.
The old leaves fell, a gentle rain,
And I let go of childish pain.
The palm grew strong, with thickened base,
While I matured, with slower pace.
We both grew tall, and reached so high,
To touch the boundless, azure sky.
Though strength is different, yours and mine,
A bond we share, a truth divine.
We stand together, side by side,
With roots that run, deep, far and wide.
I see it now, each passing day,
From schoolgirl dreams, to wisdom’s way.
It watched me learn, and watched me grow,
And I observed its silent show.
Each year it climbed, a steady climb,
A testament to passing time.
Until it reached a mighty height,
A beacon shining, day and night.
One day I’ll leave, and venture far,
Beneath a different moon and star.
But I will hope, with all my heart,
That still it stands, a work of art.
And when I’m gone, I pray it stays,
Through sunny days, and hazy grays.
Perhaps it will miss me, just a bit,
As I will miss its form, exquisite.
Though words unspoken fill the air,
A silent bond, beyond compare.
The bottle palm, my kindred soul,
A story whispered, making us whole.
