Rain

An old oak, withstanding nature, I am.

Thunder and storm I have seen.

Burning heat and freezing coldness I have felt.

On my hill I am standing,

nothing to fear, nothing to frown to.

With the time passing I grow,

standing tall and strong.

But yet there is something.

A small thing which brings delight.

Silently caressing my leafs,

silently feeding my roots.

The soft rain, a welcome guest.

Each drop brings a tingling feel,

each drop brings more joy.

An old oak, waiting for the rain, I am.

- Yuki (26.07.07)