Standing straight and tall, Leaning out of the rocks as if it will fall.
Swallowing up the sun, soon dusk will come, then there's night, maybe the tree will lean in fright?
Strong? Yes, the roots are so deep, grasping and reaching into the earth for it's composure, it must keep.
The tree and me maybe a parallel.
The wind, can be a friend, the gentle rustling of a cool
summer breeze, on the other hand the wind becomes
raging and violent, pushing the tree up from the ground
and blowing it recklessly all over the land.
The tree and man.
The tree is like a man, struggling to stand, sometimes
easy and sometimes rough.
Standing straight and tall, we have to be tough.
Like the tree, for you and me, maybe this is the key.'
