I centred myself In the knowledge of a wise old tree
All gnarled limbs and weeds
A beard of moss
Sometimes wisdom doesn’t speak
I centred myself In the knowledge of a wise old tree
All gnarled limbs and weeds
A beard of moss
Sometimes wisdom doesn’t speak
Beneath the cover of a tree
finding sanctuary
Watching the world pass by me
A blanket of rain pouring down
A reminder of the cycle of clouds