Progeny

You are not the seedling

Who has grown alone

Standing solitary

Among the maple, oak, and birch

Rather, you have transformed

Into the Trumpeter Vine

Clinging to our trunk

As you grow, stretch, and expand

Out into the universe

In blooms of pink and blue

Knowing that no matter

How far you travel

Or wherever you choose to roam

Your roots still remain

Beneath the subtle shade

Of our outstretched branches.