Trees are always trying to reach the sky; arms stretched out toward heaven ‘til their leaves turn brown and die. Then will come the winter, when they stand the icy wind. waiting for the sun to shine and spring to come again. The drama’s reinacted every year: Leaves come down like clouds of doubt and fear. While on the ground, the winter passes by, every tree keeps reaching to the sky.
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resilientgiant187

Trees are always trying to reach the sky; arms stretched out toward heaven ‘til their leaves turn brown and die. Then will come the winter, when they stand the icy wind. waiting for the sun to shine and spring to come again. The drama’s reinacted every year: Leaves come down like clouds of doubt and fear. While on the ground, the winter passes by, every tree keeps reaching to the sky.

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Trees are always trying to reach the sky; arms stretched out toward heaven ‘til their leaves turn brown and die. Then will come the winter, when they stand the icy wind. waiting for the sun to shine and spring to come again. The drama’s reinacted every year: Leaves come down like clouds of doubt and fear. While on the ground, the winter passes by, every tree keeps reaching to the sky.
Trees are always trying to reach the sky; arms stretched out toward heaven ‘til their leaves turn brown and die. Then will come the winter, when they stand the icy wind. waiting for the sun to shine and spring to come again. The drama’s reinacted every year: Leaves come down like clouds of doubt and fear. While on the ground, the winter passes by, every tree keeps reaching to the sky.
Now, those captains must learn what the river will do when it makes that great turn out of sight. How it dashes them up on the rocks of the shore How it spins to the left and the right. It beats them and breaks them and crushes their pride Leaves them dizzy and sick and all jumbled inside ‘til they’ve all but forgotten that glorious ride lying flat on their deck in the sun. There they lie, drying out in the sun. As you round the point where the river was bent and survey the great wideness ahead, you can see all those captains alone on their decks, beat and broken and very near dead. Then the current takes hold and there’s naught you can do as it drags you down into its maw. Headed straight for those rocks, you make ready to crash but at last, you rise up, roll and yaw. Going back and away, then forward again, fearing each time, the rocks will prevail! You’re trapped in a cycling, circling tide, in an eddy withstanding a gale. But each time you circle that great whirling tide and you’ve not hit the rocks or been thrown to the side and you’re kept from the falls, cascading and wide, for the eddy’s small mercy give praise. Give the merciful currents your praise!