The Wise Oak and the Young Sapling

In a forest deep where shadows play, Stood a wise old oak, strong and gray. His branches stretched wide, a sheltering hand, While young saplings danced in the sunlit land. One day a storm brewed, fierce and loud, The young saplings trembled, lost in the crowd. “Help us, dear oak!” they cried in despair, “For the winds are too strong, we cannot bear!” The oak, with a sigh, spoke soft and slow, “Fear not, little ones, let your roots grow. In times of trouble, hold firm to the ground, For strength is not just in size, but in how you’re bound.” The storm raged on, but the oak stood tall, While the saplings learned to bend, not fall. When the winds finally ceased, and the sun broke through, The saplings stood stronger, with a vibrant hue. Years passed by, and the oak grew old, The saplings now tall, their stories are now told. They remembered the lesson, in the storm’s fierce looking face, That true strength lies in unity, and the roots we place. So in the heart of the forest, where shadows play, The wise oak and saplings thrive to this day. For every trial faced, they learned to stand, Together they weathered, hand in hand.