Our Roots Run Deep

Our roots run deep,

Like oaken arms

Sinking into the earth.

Our family holds strong

To each other,

Branches whip in the wind

But rarely fall off.

In the spring

We blossom, fresh and new, often seeing

New life.

In the winter we begin

To slowly die, the cold shaking off our leaves

Which fall like tears against the frozen ground.

It was a long winter;

Branches have been falling

More and more.

But darkness always comes before

The light,

And we will blossom again, for

Our roots run deep.