Some say that the sun always sets,
Fades, falters, wanes,
That night always comes.
I know that the sun is eternal,
That should one seek,
One should always find
That there is a serene sun,
A dazzling design in the blue,
A golden guardian of the earth,
Resplendent in its glory.

Some would shield themselves from water,
Tiring of its unceasing cycle,
Its shallows and depths.
I know the water as a different cycle,
Nebulous in nature,
Indestructible and ubiquitous,
Of both youth and age,
Driven to change by the sun,
Putting life into all work.

Some would dismiss the soil of the earth
As vulgar, crude, rough,
A dated den of decay.
I have known the soil
As a land of opportunity,
A solitary square in a sea of desert,
A destination and a destiny.

Some wonder of the changes of nature,
Watching roots become oaks with awe.
I know the story of the mighty oak,
A shadow of a former seed,
Founded upon the deep foundations of the soil,
Invigorated by clear water,
Reaching for the sun’s rays of sustenance,
Inspired to greater limits by its higher presence.
Bold, stalwart, true,
Growing to give rise to acorns,
Designed to touch the lives of new patches,
A cycle of confluence.

I know confluence well
For the sun is faith,
The water is devotion,
The acorns are works of honorable service.
For we were once seeds,
But have grown into oaks
In the rich soil of home.