Sunshine spreads wings, the smallest smiles,
From a tiny thing, a small thing, magic grows,
And like a dream, a laugh, a song,
There is finally something strong.
From such a tiny seed, there is a tree,
Stretching branches, a home.
The tree is home to birds,
Spiderwebs too stretch throughout its branches,
And squirrels, and other tiny things,
Find a certain type of unity.
If I could be,
Like a tree,
Then I would be strong, and useful,
But I most make do with simply me,
I can't change fate's design, at least not all the time,
So here I am, and where is strength?
There are things I cannot do.
Is everyone's job;
so please care, let me learn
and help me to see me,
rather than what I am wanted to be
Time is the best cure for destruction,
But time cannot heal every wound,
And when there is emptiness in the soul,
You must find the place you were burned,
And in time wean yourself off of hate,
Suffering is a part of this,
And so we share one companionship:
This is it; here we are.