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Babbling Brook, Budding Tree




Life, a winding, lonely and painful path,

we never know where it will lead us.

Sometimes the crocus blooms early,

others winter runs long.

Life can be dark as a closet with no doors or windows,

no light, not even a crack below the door.

But when you seize life the birds sing and the tree frogs echo.

I would not trade this journey for anything.


Be as the willow branch,

eager to start anew, part of the many but truly you.

Be as the babbling brook, run strong and true.

But, run to your kind to join with others till we make one big body, one big ocean of life.

Listen to the songbird chorus,

they sing the song of life.

Look at the budding tree.

it sprouts new meaning with each apple blossom.