Trees Come From Seeds

A poem about achieving dreams slowly

“How could that ever support you?
It bears no fruit yet”
The fool asked me
From under the shade of his own tree
In my hand I carried only seeds
So I can understand
Why he did not yet see what I had

“Such a pity
This tree provides no shade!”
The fool told me
Pointing out it’s lack of leaves
Perhaps he was unaware of the seasons

“How could that tree ever feed us all?”
The fools asked in chorus
When I suggested that we plant more
For the city
Sure, it only gave me apples
Plenty filling and sweet
To one person
Maybe my math was faulty

Having banished all hunger
I wondered
If I could turn to work
On filling the coffers with gold
“You bastard, who would buy apples?”
The fools in unison said