The Song of the Tree

I am a tree planted by the riverside

Not a weeping willow

Since my limbs are lifted high.

In my youth my roots were shallow,

Going far and wide

Because every need was met

By the riverside.

One day the desert stream went dry

And I thought that I would die

But my roots drove deeply underground

And it was then that I had found

That my Maker does satisfy

My every need He meets

And I grow stronger for the weeks

The desert stream runs dry.

Delana 2000

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