Bushy Tree [Fiction]

I am extending my leaves, searching for more sunlight. I am getting too bushy.

I like the spring, that brings the sun with it. But not just the sun.

In order for me to grow, only the strongest parts should remain. That allows the energy to flow only to the parts, where it is needed.

I can't control my energy, it goes everywhere.

But this year, they are late. I can feel myself spending thin.

Then I can feel it. One branch going down and another. I lean back, as I allow them to help me, shape me.

On the end, I will come out stronger.