The shell of the turtle is also his home,and his shelter.
The wings of the birds give them hight to fly.
The fins of the fish push him through his watery depth.
The acorn that falls to the earth is plane and pure,
mixed with the substanance of decay to bring forth new life.
The leaves shall become dence and the bark thick
to cover up the tender soul.
The birds rely on its branches, and the squirel on its fruit.
Then it starts again.
Life is but for a day. The soul is eternal.
Nothing else much matters but him.
God wants to catch you, and pull you new hights, gather you up into a new world
a new place with only him to plant a seed
inside of them so we can grow as the oak
to lend rest to the birds, and fruit for the squirel.