Wind swiftly blowing through every little nook

Rooted firmly to the ground 

Although stepped upon, one still never shook

With a bark here and there, what must one do?

There's an option to shed, but the choice is to root.

Twigs begin to form from the branches inside 

No different from a tree's----

Trunk, in which all thoughts must hide

A growing crown precedes non-stop

Rest Now! leaves from the ground on up.