The Oak

A Story by Ironwill

The Lesson of the Oak

The oak towers above the forest
It's fellow arboretum members
Gaze upward at it's height

It's branches supported
By a many-ringed trunk
Bark scarred by years gone-by

It's broad leaves shimmer
In the gentlest breeze
And hide the noonday sun

Children play in it's shade
A carved heart and initials
The memorial to long lost love

For 150 years it's watched
The change of time
In the earth and it's animates

Day's sunlight and night's storms
Summer's green and winter's white
All feed the cycle of it's ageless life

In spite of it's stature
And immortal defiance
Of lifetimes and time

The source of it's strength
Hidden from human eyes
Reaching deep into nourishing soil

Patiently bursting stones with
It's ever deeper growing
Depths equal to the highest branches

Dwelling in the cool dark earth
Fed by earthworms and decay
Drinking in the purest rain

It stands proud, tall and true
Regardless of the scarring
Of branches severed by life's winds

It stands upward reaching
Undeterred by time or pain
A monument of determination to life

The source of it's strength
Is not in it's size or beauty
Or any of the things apparent to us

The source of it's strength
Is under our feet and unseen
By our simple eyes

The source of it's strength
Is it's unwavering, ever-growing
Clenched fist on it's foundation