Walking Oak

I poked up through the soil... and took a deep breath.
I knew little of life... and nothing of death.

The light flooded me with energy and powered organic machinery...
Converting food and air into an entity... converting it to me.

Solar powered, I flowered and towered and perceived the land at hand..
As i grew i soon knew that yonder was more fertile than where i chanced to stand.

My tendrils could not stretch and learn... and i tried in every season.
I could only live and yearn... perhaps that gave life reason?

It might behoove but i couldn't move... and my pain did make no sound.
I gathered my life into a seed... and journeyed to the ground.

Each seed came closer to what i need... a thousand seasons flew right by.
But now i can bequeath this fertile heath to my progeny and I.

The home of walking oak now spoke of only rose and turtle.
Across the wood from where i stood... it seemed to be more fertile.