Trees with their heads held high.
Their leaves thinking, "we'll never die."
But when the big storm comes along.
They no longer look so strong.
Slumped and sagging in the rain.
They bend down as they strain.
Just when they think they must be failing.
The sun comes out to stop their wailing.
Bent but not broke.
They no longer carry the heavy yoke.
Standing upright and mighty again.
The trees are stronger now than
when the storm began.
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