But a Tree
This is me,
I am but a tree.
With my roots in the ground,
I am able to grow round.
Through the winter cold,
until the river runs bold.
My branches are strong,
by the wind they sing a song.
Of patience and realness,
and love for stillness.
This is me,
I am but a tree.
With my roots in the ground,
I am able to grow round.
Through the winter cold,
until the river runs bold.
My branches are strong,
by the wind they sing a song.
Of patience and realness,
and love for stillness.
