Storms whip, all around the oak.
The oak bends. Strong limbs.
Great winds, drenching rain. Still it stands.
Skies clear, sun warms, aftermath. Another storm lived through.
Let me become your oak, Lord.
(Letter #2,904)
Storms whip, all around the oak.
The oak bends. Strong limbs.
Great winds, drenching rain. Still it stands.
Skies clear, sun warms, aftermath. Another storm lived through.
Let me become your oak, Lord.
(Letter #2,904)