“What will this grow up to be?” Sarah asked with a smile. “Will it grow big and strong? Will it take a long while?” If I hold it in my hand, and show it the sun Will it grow a lot of feet and run, run, run? If the soil is soft and the roots are fed with dew Will it grow up and play a harmonica or kazoo? If I put it in a pot, will it grow this way and that? Would it grow up to be happy, small and trim, not fat? If was sitting there, alone on a table Would it pine for something more, if it was able? I know, I know…it will have lots of friends They will grow up all together In this garden that I’ll tend. They sing all day, and rest all night I’ll keep them close by They’ll never leave my sight. But… If it was stolen by a big old UFO, Would it grow up weird and have an orange glow? If it was moving and mooing and calling out my name, Would my tree ever really REALLY be the same? Or… If it was hit all over by some outer space like rays Would it grow all big and furry, and refuse to play? If it had one gazillion branches, and twice as many leaves Would grandma have to knit a sweater with all those sleeves? If it grows up really big and really strong Would it live a good life, nothing with it wrong? If it stood way up high above the ground Would you be able to sit atop it and see all around? I love my little tree And I know it loves me I wonder when it grows up What exactly will it be. I love my little tree.