When the final leaf, of autumn falls
Bare it leaves, its branch and trunk
Brown the mood, along its veins
Crumpled by grief, the sun is gone
Clouds cover, every inch above
Dry roots, that feed it life
Barren and cold, the soil cannot
Hold on to rain, and keep it moist
Days will come, when wrinkles cover
Tempered bark aged in barrels
Of snow drifted, to its side
By artic winds, from mountains frosted
And if, that day comes to be
Each creek will fill, with pebbles called
One by one, their names in glory
Under a bridge, with planks of wood
From these same trees, standing tall
Digging deep, into our earth
And so the seasons, come to be
With change in, water and in winds
But trees and pebbles, still remain
From the ground to up above
In each tree rests a forrest
Just one name unites it all
It is the forrest, of our life