The Trees

I want to be like the trees.
The ones anchored on the top of the mountain
Roots entangled more with rock than dirt
Shouldering snow on their branches
All winter long.
Long after the trees further down have
Relinquished their burden to the sun.
I want to be like the trees
Anchored on the top of the mountain
Strong enough
And flexible enough
To withstand the near  constant wind
Which rushes across the summit
And through their branches
And down the hill.
I want to be like the trees
On the top of the mountain.