No good comes without crisis

Tiny roots break thru the rocks

The branches in the wind crack

To give way for new branches

The river cuts through granite

Thru the day and lonely night

To forge a canyon so grand

Standing mighty tall in sight

Nations from Bastille are born

From well-taut strings leap a song

You see in the sky a rainbow

After the land swept by storm

The heart now clearly remembers

What the mind in pride forgets

The old young man relearns wisdom

Of patience, commitment, faith

Like babies crying from the womb

A man’s character is born

For man to excel is to suffer

From pain opportunities prosper