A Tree Crisis

One summer day I saw a scraggy tree That stood alone in a drouth-stricken land. Its boughs though starkly gaunt still valiantly Defied the desert wind and flying sand.

Now why did Nature's laws demand it strive Forlornly to outlive death-dealing drouth, Its roots strike deep for moisture in the earth, Its sparse leaves gasp for air hot from the south?

Today that tree stands in a rain-drenched land, Symmetrical and fair beyond belief. It dominates the landscape far and wide, Its leaves proclaim from drouth a sweet relief.

That tree now stands a symbol of the strength That rescued life from out the jaws of death, A glory to the dwellers in that land, A power and grace that fairly hold your breath.