My life is a tree, <br />Yoke-fellow of the earth; <br />Pledged, <br />By roots too deep for remembrance, <br />To stand hard against the storm, <br />To fill by Place. <br />(But high in the branches of my green tree there is a wild <br />bird singing: <br />Wind-free are the wings of my bird: she hath built no <br />mortal nest.)<br /><br />Karle Wilson Baker<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-tree-4/
