Rooted
A hill so nice, it holds my mind and ties
my life into the time, for I am bound
Beneath this ground; this tree, so tall, yet lies
So low, henceforth we find the depths of sound.
For rooted deep my thoughts do live, and thus
I find values do hold, at time not near
we lose their trust, for loss of these is us
to rust, and now the hill becomes so clear
And look I down into the roots values
Do hold despite the change I wish to see
And now this long new thought anew soon brews
And all of this appears to me in dream
Once brought the love and told the tale, is now
The home I care, for love do I allow
