Green in color; full of valor
We are skinny we are stout
We grow high and we grow low
But no one roams here and there.
We take your bad and do you good
Our moods are good but never rude
We give you food but you cut our wood
We never hate though you’re not our mates.
We hide our tears and fade your sorrows
Though no rules, we abide by nature’s rule
We never fool but keep you cool
We have no tools but love and care.
Our seeds make a splendid crop
But few fall off as seeds
While few only become flowers and
Very few become fruits to give seeds more.
This is our story and you call it history
Which comes first always remains a mystery
Our ancestors say we were born out of seeds
But some of them say seeds were born out of us.
We now ask you God to give us the secret of our birth
You are the one who created the seeds and the trees
Did you create the trees first or the seeds?
Which ever it was we are all a part of your great Creation.
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