The trees are different from us.
They are patient.
They don’t run
even when the weather turns.
They won’t blame God or wind.
They hold their posture—stoic—
embracing sun and heaven.
Struck by lightning,
smashed by cyclones,
drenched in sun showers,
no pity for themselves.
They reach upward, devoted,
even when forsaken.
They remain defiant—
a
The trees are different from us.
They are patient.
They don’t run
even when the weather turns.
They won’t blame God or wind.
They hold their posture—stoic—
embracing sun and heaven.
Struck by lightning,
smashed by cyclones,
drenched in sun showers,
no pity for themselves.
They reach upward, devoted,
even when forsaken.
They remain defiant—
as if there were
no other way to be.
Loyal to the laws of nature.