Children are fragile when they first sprout,
Their roots yet have little strength to grasp the firm soil around them,
Their support is weak- a gust of wind sends them gently oscillating back and forth, undecided...
but nevertheless their green tips still eagerly searchingly rise up
into the air (though sometimes too quickly at that
especially when they become bent out of shape from a fall
off the precarious monkey bars or a tumble amongst their friends)
In the summer, they grow joyfully,
waving their miniature leaves towards the sun, at each other.
As fall comes, strong gusts of wind blow relentlessly, pushing them down.
And so they lay on each other, supporting each other,
and faint giggles can be heard in their gentle rustling.
At the dawn of winter, their bare branches shiver in excitement,
awestruck by the pure beautiful white blanket settling upon their limbs.
And as spring shyly peeks over the corner,
they rise up, straightening their backs once more, eagerly reaching towards the sun,
stretching their branches out as if they just woke up from a long but comfortable slumber.
And as each day gives way to another, and each season melds into the next,
Their roots length, dig deeper, solidifying,
Becoming sure of their place in the earth’s soil, in this world. 
Though we’re tempted to guide their growth, on their search for their place in this world,
And so we rush over to give them plentiful water at every chance,
and prop them up with beams of support, to help them grow as tall as they can.
But sometimes such over fawning, over caring, becomes over wearing,
simply becoming a dreary shadow cast over them,
unintentionally blocking the sunlight they need,
with our own hopes and sometimes a bit presumptuous thoughts:
like that fertilizer we had bought that just ended up
giving them a future bark disease to deal with.
And even if we try to mold them, with ropes and poles,
To grow into that certain, perfect shape,
They won’t
In fact, it’ll probably break their branches.
But if we leave them alone, their barks may harden, their roots may shrivel,
From lack of hydration, lack of basic TLC
So what one truly needs, is a balance
And before you know it,
The children become young adults themselves, young trees, green and strong,
Able to stand alone, without the previous support of ropes or beams, or other neighboring trees.
And as their flowers blossom and they produce their own fruits, they become adults themselves
Setting in motion the hopeful cycle once more…