The Oak Tree
|A mighty wind blew night and day|
It stole the oak tree's leaves away
Then snapped its boughs and pulled its bark
Until the oak was tired and stark
But still the oak tree held its ground
While other trees fell all around
The weary wind gave up and spoke.
How can you still be standing Oak?
The oak tree said, I know that you
Can break each branch of mine in two
Carry every leaf away
Shake my limbs, and make me sway
But I have roots stretched in the earth
Growing stronger since my birth
You'll never touch them, for you see
They are the deepest part of me
Until today, I wasn't sure
Of just how much I could endure
But now I've found, with thanks to you
I'm stronger than I ever knew
I love to draw and as he read this poem I imagined a drawing of a tree, leaves scattered around it, with fallen branches and fallen trees in the background. Just a few sticks remain as branches, roots can be seen not quite above the ground and a network of roots reaching deep. The wind swirling around with high dark clouds.