As I fall off one of the many trees,

I am barely visible.

Just a speck in the sky,

Floating around randomly, with no apparent direction.

I may not look like much;

Just a tiny seed, you say.

And yet, I am the beginning of a new life.

I swirl away, buffeted in all directions by the wind

Until I reach an appropriate spot,

Where I drop to the ground.

I lie there amongst the worms and compost.

Waiting, knowing.

After a week, the signs of life are emerging.

A bud at first,

Then a single leaf,

Then a few more.

Before you know it,

My branches are stretching in all directions,

Reaching out to touch the skies.

What could be better, I wonder as I mature.

I’m surrounded by beauty on all sides,

Enjoying the company of the other foliage.

The peaceful, friendly atmosphere,

The singing of birds,

The rustling of leaves,

The warm sun smiling down on me day after day,

Nurturing me and giving me strength

Through thick and thin.

Yes.

Surely nothing can beat this perfection.

Many years pass.

The forest grows older, and with it, so do I.

Yet I find that none of the old charm wears off.

If anything, my life has only become better.

I may not be the young sapling I once was,

But I still have many happy memories to cherish for the years to come.

I can remember everything so clearly:

My very first flowering,

Yes, the beauty of those blooms

And my pride for having produced such fine blossoms.

And after that, the first time I shed my leaves.

Looking like a skeleton, but still alive,

Lying dormant in wait for spring.

A sudden sound interrupts my bliss.

I realize the woodlands are unnaturally quiet.

The silence is disturbing, and not only for me.

Waves of unease circulate all around me.

Something is wrong…

Terribly wrong.

And then that sound comes again:

A high pitched screeching,

An alien sound, making our leaves curl.

Different form the calm murmurs we are so used to.

All of a sudden I hear screaming.

I recognize it instantly.

It is the terrible sound of a tree in pain.

Full of helplessness, desperation…hopelessness.

The screeching continues, accompanying the cries.

Finally it’s over,

But not for long.

It starts again,

And for a second time the sounds of distress invade my senses.

This time I know who the victim is.

The poor old pine down by the lake.

We shiver, unable to imagine the raw agony he must be experiencing.

It is repeated over and over again.

Slowly drawing closer and closer,

As my companions slowly perish

One by one.

I catch whisper floating around

Of what this deadly monster may be.

It is described as a flash of intolerable pain,

An un bearable, horrible pain.

Like millions of tiny blades ripping you apart

Till you fall, lifeless.

Still, I am unprepared for the jolt of agony.

It spasms through my very core,

Like a white hot fine burning inside me.

I hear the strange screeching of metal against wood,

Searing, splintering, scorching.

Tearing me apart from the inside out.

Then I feel oddly detached, as I’m cut through my middle.

I too cry out in anguish as I crash to the ground.

I can feel the last essences of my being leaving me,

And try to hang on to whatever drops of life I still possess.

I think of all the joys and comforts I ever experienced

And am grateful for such a blissful and complete life.

I think of all those who never had a chance

To feel the contentment I did,

To enjoy the summer sun on their branches.

To taste the fresh winter rain

To breathe the pure morning air

Finally, when I’m past feeling

And slip easily into death,

One last though reverberates through me:

Why?

Had to write something for this class elocution thingy, so I came up with this…