Poison ivy tree,
How can this be?
A tree made of poison ivy.

You are a parasite.
A leach.
Attaching yourself
With your alien tendrils,
Climbing ever skyward,
Completely dependant.
You extend your foliage,
Absorbing every ray of sunlight you see.
Suffocating the oak
Simply for being a tree.

You hold steadfast,
Sneering at me.
Daring me to climb amongst your leaves.
One touch,
Will cover me,
In your itchy skin disease.
What a vicious creature you can be,
Poison ivy tree.

In a way I admire thee,
You are a survivor.
Climbing to the sky,
Rather than living among the majority
Always striving for more,
Never settling for the easily attained
In a world where reaching sun is necessity
You are a king amongst princes

But what will you be?
When your host dies and falls.
Returning you to the forest floor.
You worked so hard,
To end up back on the ground.

You still grow on.

Maybe it was worth it
To be bathed in the suns glory
Even for a moment
So the journey is the reason to live.
The glory is the goal.
And the fall,
Is the reason to carry on,
A path to better things.