It's roots flowing freely underneath,
Sheltering it away from the wolves,
And their very sharp teeth,
The sun soothingly calm,
Wrapping it's arms around,
Holding the tree gently,
The tree soaking into the ground,
The dead limbs quiet,
The beauty had hidden in fear,
Afraid of the white evil that will come,
Always holding back the unwanted tear,
The sun comforting,
Holding it's fears at bay,
Reassuring the gleeful freedom,
Encouraging in every way,
As the tree was relaxed,
Fully sure and glad,
It had found it's final home,
And no reason to be mad.
No comments:
Post a Comment