The thin leaves of the ash tree,
Dance slowly in the wind.
They crane their necks towards the sun,
And feel its heat on their backs.
They must enjoy the fleeting appearance,
The sun has made just for them.
The bark of the ash is cold and wet,
For rain fell thick yestereve.
Yet the coming of the sun is enough,
To put her back in good spirits.
The long gone rain is quickly forgotten,
In the joy of the warm bright sun.
She does not yet know what tomorrow holds,
Weather or not the outlook is good.
But one thing is certain in the present,
The sun is here to be enjoyed.
So she does not worry about the future to come,
But enjoys the present gratification.
The animals mock her for her foolishness,
And insist she thinks of what is to come.
However they are ignored and their opinions worthless,
In the eyes of an experienced ash.
So though when rain again does fall
The beasts of the forest hide in their homes,
Thee strong trees, who can withstand the elements,
Stay put and look forward to the sunlight.