A tree will stand tall,

Even when it is marred by a long crack.

It wears its battle scar silently,

And remains unbothered.


For it is still decorated by shades of soft chestnut,

And even hints of red,

As green fingertips stretch out to the sky,

And tendrils of brown burrow into the ground.


It still teems with life.

A bird peers between its fingers, chirping happily.

A squirrel scampers up its trunk as it clutches a nut.

A caterpillar slowly inches its way along the edge of a leaf.


It is still touched by the warm sunshine

That dapples the green leaves,

And paints them splotches of other colors,

So that it glows under the noonday sun.


For even when cerulean skies turn stormy gray,

And rain pelts down from above,

Even when lightning illuminates the sky

And fills the air with a tinge of ozone.


Even then, a tree will stand tall and proud

Against the harsh winds that buffet it,

Arms raised to the heavens, beckoning.

Even then, a tree will stand tall.