The Seed of Rebellion

Beneath the bustling street and the rampant stomping of feet rushing to meet the cold concrete pavement cut in interlocking, tessellated patterns, a creature takes its first glorious breath of life. A seed, escaping from the excrements of bird mid-flight lodges itself between the narrow cracks of a busy sidewalk of a busy city . Perfectly wedged, and repeatedly watered by spills of Pumpkin spice decaf latte, the miracle of life takes its course. The creature has neither family nor friends, for only a few can survive in such harsh conditions. Nevertheless, it begins to stretch its roots downwards, growing stronger by the day, and then it begins to bore into the unforgiving concrete solidifying its place. Now it begins the daunting task of rising above the surface to meet the sunlight fully. Once the roots are well in place, it begins to ascend into clearer and stronger light, its powerful rays giving it shivers and orgasms, strengthening it to levels thought unachievable. A small weed at first, not much too see for the fast-pacing man, it continues to grow beyond untill it reaches the height of a small flower. It begins to consider raising a family, in this new virgin land untarnished by other weeds. As is the case for most dreams, it is cut short by the unrelenting reality, it takes a small kick by a jogger to turn the sprouting blossom into debris of hope. The city is no place for a flower or weed of any sort. The city subjects everyone to the same struggles, most fight through them and live a sedentary life till they meet their maker, with no hopes or dreams of evolving further. Uprisings of plants are considered a pest and quickly exterminated. The plant has lost all hope, its dreams shattered, in a literal sense, it prepares itself to join the ranks of the myriads failures of life. However, only if the roots are strong, shall the tree grow, and this gives the plant a newfound hope. This time, the roots shall bore deeper, and grow stronger, before it thinks of rising once again to the surface the living-dead pedestrians. It grows again and meets the eye of a tree-hugger that takes it upon himself to save the plant. It blossoms and grows and becomes a full tree that is cared for by the whole city, and in return it gives them hopes of success in return. It begins to inspire change in the other trees and they too are grown amidst the city streets, providing shade and joy. Slowly, but surely, more and more trees join the cause until the pallid grey palette of the city becomes a vivid green. Through the eyes of an aviating bird, the humans have returned the forest to its original form. Rebellion is but a seed that can become a forest once the trees are united under one sun. It is not long before the inhabitants complain to the city. The forest is a fad of the older generation, the city calls for wider streets, bigger buildings, and less leaves to rake, and thus all the trees are cut down to make firewood for the wealthy inhabitants. Before its final root is thrown into an open flame, the old tree can hear the people talking “if only the trees had stuck to their own section, they could have spared us the expense of cutting them down.” The tree spends its last moment, being burnt alive by the flames, watching as the rich man toasted each other on another success, another rebellion flame extinguished.