From the ground, just a little tree beginning life anew,
Its bark smooth, its branches thin.
Growing up to reach the sky, nourished from the ground its in.
From the years of growth the bark rough and gnarled; braving winters cold,
Through summers warmth, under branches shade, food from branches, acorns fell each fall.
A mighty oak tree growing old, yet came the time when leaves and acorns, no longer did they fall.
A skeleton of its former self; animals still found shelter in its shell.
Standing alone in silent testimonial.
In time the oak tree returned to the earth, to nourish the ground where it first began its growth.
To begin life anew.
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