A tree grows a root, deep and strong,
It carries water and nutrients from the soil,
To the leaves, so they can soak up the sun,
Allowing this ancient giant to thrive forever.
I wish I was like a tree, rooted to a home,
Someone with the will to stay,
A story held within my core, with the wisdom of something so old,
But I am not.
I am more like a bird, flying high,
A creature with the insatiable desire to leave and explore warmer places,
Only to come back, time and time again,
Never staying but also never leaving.
So I am a bird, but I make my home in the tree.
Can I be both?