Strong it stood, wise old tree,
Sprouted beneath, small and frail,
A tender vine yearning for skies above.
Climbing slowly towards heaven\'s height,
Straining the bowing bough.
Sheltered close within the tree\'s shielding coat,
Bore it up through rain and gale.
Grew coiled; clinging ever tighter.
Sharing in heaven\'s vistas,
A dance of harmony, a sight so divine,
Solace finds me deep within.