Dimming the landscape,
Depleting it of the sun's brillant light;
So is the heart when trials of life emerge.
Wind and rain flood in with the gray clouds;
Whipping about as the willow tree,
Who bends and teettors beside the creek bed,
So, I stagger about to stand myself erect.
Rain raising the waters of the once gentle creek;
Causing the water to rip and tare at the soft soil,
Leaving the tree's tender roots to be exposed
And torn away, taking the tree's balance away.
Yet, given time to mend, the tree shall flurious;
Balance shall be regained and strong once more,
Though the storm was rough, it did pass;
And so we all heal once our balance is regained.