"I am the oak! I stand up tall! I do not bow! I do not fall!"

The oak tree towered proud and grand, The mightiest tree in all the land. His trunk was wide, his branches spread, His shadow cast a mighty bed.

But the little reed just swayed and sang, "I bend, I bend, I dance, I dance, The wind and I do a little dance."

"Look at me, so thick and wide, My roots go deep, I have my pride. Nothing moves me, nothing shakes me, Nothing bends me, nothing breaks me!"

The oak looked down with scornful eyes, "You're weak!" he boomed up to the skies. "How can you call yourself a tree, When any breeze can push and pull at thee?"

But the little reed just swayed and sang, "I bend, I bend, I dance, I dance, The wind and I do a little dance."

"You, little reed, so thin, so small, The weakest breeze could make you fall. How can you live so frail and light?" The oak laughed loud into the night.

But the little reed just swayed and sang, "I bend, I bend, I dance, I dance, The wind and I do a little dance."

The storm came howling through the night. The oak stood firm with all his might. He would not bend. He would not sway. CRACK! The great oak snapped that day.

His mighty trunk split down the core, His proud branches fell and tore. The oak who stood so tall and grand Lay broken on the muddy land.

But the little reed bent low, bent low, Touched the water down below, Let the wild wind come and go, And when the storm had spent its might, The reed stood up in morning light.

"I bend, I bend, I dance, I dance, The wind and I do a little dance. Being strong is not just standing tall-- Sometimes the brave ones bend, that's all.

True strength lies not in being firm, But knowing when it's time to turn, To yield, to flow, to find your way By bending with the storm that day."

The Oak and the Reed