Solid Oak
The ancient oak
elegantly extends
its gnarled and weathered roots.
Seizing life from fertile soil,
its lustful thirst sated
from springs that generously flow,
devotedly, unseen.
It scatters beauty,
sweeping freely
'cross a shifting sky,
waltzing with
a wayward wind,
solidly swaying upon
seasonal whims...
I am that Oak
when I am with you,
firmly grounded,
yet swept away.
Quenched by your caress,
swayed by your strength,
I can bend with the years
that claim me.
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