Once I was the simplest of acorns,
Cast from a lofty branch in the woods,
Into the bustle and frenzy of nature,
Bumbling, tumbling down the rocky hillside,
Bobbing along a bubbling green brook,
Whisked away by a jay in a blur of color,
Lost in a whirlwind of bitter confusion,
Only to be shuffled beneath the leaves and moss,
Cracked from strain, dull with fatigue.
But now I am a young oak tree,
Firmly rooted in the soil, thick with moisture,
Stems glowing soft green with a translucent vitality,
Eagerly reaching out to taste the gentle sunlight for the first time,
Growing as a sprightly sapling in this new world of opportunity,
Taller and taller, to the sparkling heavens above,
Not resting till the clouds crown me,
With their twinkling opulence and wisdom.