Sequoiadendron giganteum

You’ve grown much taller than  me,

Stronger too, with thicker skin

And a head closer to the sky

Where I’m sure

You can see so far,

Clearly and without the pain

Of memory.

You’ve had more time than me

To make your joy

And peace

And shrug off every doubt

Like last year’s leaves.

Do you teach a class

On the types of growth?