Old Soul: A Poem

Old Soul 

A Poem by Savanna White

Like a sapling unfolding and growing into and old world.

Hard and strong, but still so young it tries to flower

It tries to speak- it tries to be noticed, and it knows this: it needs to be shown.

So it tries to grow.

But it’s not that old, how does it know, how does it realize that being shy will ruin its purpose.

It’s so sure it’s meant to do something before it’s a tree, before it’s wrinkled and old, 

before its leaves can’t unfold and its no longer bold, but it seems like

it has so many leaves already 

It’s ready. Ready to change the world that reserves to be old and unfold on its own, 

buts been forced and cut down by a concrete ground, hiding the things that really matter.

Which isn’t just matter;

It’s the peer behind your screen, that could of thought more than average things

buts been sucked into there device,

not able to realize the beauty of their eyes

that could have seen the world in a way that could of made it a better place.

And so we take the space trees could have lived

Plants flowers and bees could have been-

why cant some of us see how life is

Or how it should be. Please!

And as the sapling blooms, out reaching its arms, 

its not a sign of retreat, letting the world be 

the tree knows it’s not alone, and it wont be.

It lets in the bright hope of sunlight when it spreads its leaves to take it in,

in inhales the bad, to breath oxygen

for others,

knowing there’s another that will need to breathe.

But it’s not that old, how does it know, how does it realize

that its eyes can see much more that millions of lies,

but a solution

How does it realize that its ideas will only live in its conclusion,

this tree feels its life can make an improvement, so it proves it

Dropping its leaves around to take the space

that could turn into a parking place

Knowing there its only hope to help thrive 

it survives through its life, and tries to be useful

It’s so full of ideas and meaning just from being, it’s hopeful.

How does it know its life needs to be lived a certain way? Its hopeful,

For the world to be thankful,

Someday.

How does it know? 

Thats just how it goes, with an Old Soul.