A tree growing tall against the weather
Does not wish to be a boulder,
Nor does it beg the wind to cease.
The leaves do not wish to be
As solid as the branches,
And the branches do not wish to be
As free as the leaves.
It simply exists as a tree,
Being all that it is supposed to be,
As the sun shines down upon it -
Acknowledging its existence
And encouraging it to grow.