On Christmas Eve I looked out
And,
Through the window,
Were some trees
From my position,
In my cave,
It was overwhelming me
On Christmas Day,
I climbed a mountain,
A steep trail it has been,
But
When I reached the top of my journey
The trees looked like tiny men
Below me they were
No longer a threat
Like a new and loving friend
But when I climbed down
Step by step
The trees remain men
The lower I go
The bigger they get
And that is quite okay
This pattern,
I've come to realize
Is quite a mockery