Great pillars

Colours of majestic greens and browns,
Standing guard ever watchful,
Only making creaking groaning sound,
Yet mainly always silence around.

Shape, size, different yet agonisingly similar,
Subtlety, variety, always wanting to follow,
What or where, taken to land by various means,
To take root, always hard to begin.

Bludgeoned by others, darkness descends,
Little rays of hope splinter through,
Eager to please and worship the light,
Hoping to entice it closer still.

More, more are the cries heard,
Yet silently growing, spreading limbs,
Stubble grown, in rotation, clockwork,
Years pass with effort until breakthrough.

Less the cries are heard, quietening more, more,
Less the need to push on, but no choice,
The tip.glinting in golden streams,
Swaying gently in yellow beams.

It follows, standing tall, with past worshippers,
Around the base, the connection to lower life,
From hence, it came to become the tower,
Makljestically surveying the peers around him.