Surface Roots, an Origin Story

A sonnet in iambic pentameter

Prominent surface roots of a silver maple tree

When SHE was YOUNG her ROOTS were UNderGROUND,
The EARTH, it FELT exPANsive AND rePLETE,
The SUN and RAIN were PLENtiFUL year ROUND,
To SUCH exTENT she NEVer KNEW deFEAT.

But THEN one YEAR the SKY held BACK its TEARS,
The SUN, it DRIED the SOIL, took WHAT was LEFT,
The HUmans ADDed CONcrete, STONE, and PIERS,
This LEFT her FEELing BREATHless AND beREFT.

She KNEW to LIVE she HAD to FIND a WAY,
She WOULD not FAWN in TIME of SCARciTY,
So UP they WENT--her ROOTS t'ward LIGHT of DAY,
Like TENtaCLES of SHEER auDAciTY.

How PROUD she IS toDAY at SIXty YEARS
To STAND at SIXty FEET with NO more FEARS.