WINTER TREE (SONG LYRICS)
THERE’S NOTHING MORE MAJESTIC THAN TO BE THANKFUL FOR BEING A TREE
LISTEN HERE: WINTER TREE (F)— SUNO
LISTEN HERE: WINTER TREE (M) — SUNO
At the entrance to an abandoned vacant lot, with old gnarly branches and a trunk of knots, there’s a small tree — not much bigger than me.
All around it, the ground is marred and rough. For any tree, this ground was hard and tough.
Years before, there had been other trees nearby, sharing their branches beneath the same open sky.
One by one they disappeared as the vacant land declined. Still, unwanted and considered worthless, that small tree remained behind.
[CHORUS]
The tree struggled to survive each day on that land… soon much more than even it could withstand!
Summer heat baked the hardened ground until it cracked and split. Weeks sometimes passed without rain ever reaching it.
Its roots pushed deeper through rubble, broken stone and clay, searching for whatever little moisture might remain.
Autumn winds snatched away leaves and snapped branches. Homeless people were careless with discarded matches.
Someone once backed a truck against its scarred and battered side. Another broken branch hung down, yet never completely died.
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Every passing season seemed like war and always took something more. People passing saw it as nothing but an ugly eyesore.
No gardener ever pruned it or tended the ground below. Nobody wrapped its battered trunk against the winter snows.
[CHORUS]
The tree struggled to survive each day on that land… soon much more than even it could withstand!
Another winter settled in, bitterer than those before. Ice collected on its branches until they bent even more.
Road salt scattered from the passing traffic found its way into the ground. Snowplows piled their dirty snow against the little tree in another frozen mound.
Still, beneath that weathered bark, something quietly remained — through all the years of summer drought, bitter winter cold, and seasonal torrential rains.
In late December winter weather, most severe, like a last gasp of life, each blossom like a tear, the tree erupted pink to complete so many years.
While icy snow fell all around, a single scraggly tree said farewell, in splendor and beauty most profound.
Against the gray abandoned land and winter’s lifeless sky, those unexpected blossoms seemed to simply cry.
Not asking to be rescued.
Not regretting where it grew.
Not mourning what it might have been, nor for being so ignored and wholly unseen.
Despite it all, it still seemed entirely thankful for having been a tree.
Blooming, for one last time, something to be revered, as if to scream, “I was here!”
[FINAL CHORUS]
The tree struggled to survive each day on that land… until life asked more than even it could withstand.
Yet beneath winter skies, for everyone to see, it gave one final gift — the beauty of being a tree.
…being a tree
© 2024 Peter W. Collier
