The Blossoming Tree

Sometimes, I wish that I was a blossoming tree;
The earth and the sun would give life to me;
Pretty blossoms of pink or white;
I would be such a lovely sight;
Just standing still without a care;
My fragrance is carried everywhere;
Birds would come and sing their songs;
And I would shade them all summer long;
In the fall, I would be a sight to see;
And lovers would carve their names on me;
Silver in winter, I would be trimmed;
And the squirrels would make their home within;
Although my branches sway with the bitter wind;
In springtime, the cycle begins again.