Lost upon a snowy sea,
Above the forest, far from hope,
There stands a cold and lonely tree
Atop a lonely slope.
Longing for a place to hide,
He gazes to the cozy vales,
For high upon the mountainside,
Lash the fiercest winter gales.
He shudders in the stormy cold,
Remembering the days
When autumn fires of red and gold
Had set his heart ablaze.
The frost has frozen white on him.
The winter has been long,
But watch the bird alight on him
And heed her joyous song.
Stir the sap, so long withheld
Within his heart through snow and storm,
And watch as winter is dispelled
By springtime breezes sweet and warm.
And feel the spring begin to dawn
Like day upon the Earth,
And dreams forgotten, days foregone,
Arise in new rebirth.
Unto the hill, now look again,
Upon the splendid sight,
Unrivaled by the crowded glen,
A vision of delight.
You were not born to suffer, little tree,
But you were born to stand
Upon the hill for one and all to see
Your splendor and your radiance so grand.
Bliss and beauty now abound,
Blooming bright and glorious,
An overcomer, justly crowned,
A warrior victorious.