A Wrangled Trunk with Twisted Branches

Look upon my face;
Look upon my face and do not shed a tear.
I may be outside of the expectations
Which you set when I was young.
Unpredictability, it comes with what you’ve chosen.
You chose to plant the seed.
The trunk will shoot up in such a way
That you won’t know what it will become.
Without guarantee, we have branches,
Which sprout from the trunk and intermingle
In such ways no biologist could have certainty of.
A seedling is a seedling.
And the sapling is separate.
And so is the trunk.
And someday, you’ll have a tree.
A tree which has grown
And changed so much from the small seed you started with.
No matter what, that seed is yours. And to love it you must let it thrive.
Water it without fail.
Prune it sometimes, but don’t chop it down.
It is your tree.
It is your tree no matter what.
Even if the seed slipped from in between your fingertips
And fell upon the soil,
You made the choice to bundle it in more earth.
More earth for it to feed on and grow from.
You chose to grow the tree,
So why do you hate it?
The shade isn’t in the proper spot at noon?
The leaves are irregular and a bit inconsistent?
The trunk is a bit wrangled?
Your tree is your tree.
If you don’t find the beauty of the tree you’ve planted,
You made a mistake to ever plant it.