Time passes in the grove
Upwards it grows, sturdy and tall
Leaves turn their colors, and rustle, and fall
And when the wind sings, all join in a chorus
Swaying and lauding the wonder before us
Trees, each their own, but together a forest
Together forming our grove.

Thorns may take hold in the grove
Weeding the earth, we pay forward toil
Tilling and working a fresh fertile soil
Each ache we suffer while working our ploughs,
Each drop of sweat that falls from our brows
Waters our hope and strengthens our vows
To hold and stay true to our grove.

In time, new life graces the grove
On the heels of winter, the healing of Spring
Thaws frost and inspires the songbirds to sing
No longer a freeze, no longer a drought
Where once fell a seed, there now grows a sprout
Echoing shapes it can see all about
The shapes of the pillars of our grove.

Time passes in the grove
Saplings grow sheltered, though they start small
New leaves adorn branches, and rustle, and fall
New voices join in our timeless chorus
A song we too learned from voices before us
Together we sing, not trees, but a forest
The unending song of our grove.

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