The Oak

They had to choose a single seed

From a set, even Gods envied

Rare flowers of far off land

Fruits surviving even in sand


One most sought was the rose

And all went for it, in droves

He stood thinking long and alone

Slowly walked and picked acorn


Seeds were planted in a field

They took care of all its need

Every day, they watered the Earth

Waiting eagerly for the birth


Roses were the first to awake

Spreading leaves, standing erect

He stood there filled with dread

Because the acorn lay, as if dead


Days later, with acorn still asleep

Serious doubts started to creep

Had he fallen in with the crowd

Of a shrub, he’d have been proud


Why did he have such a dream?

Whose end yet may not be seen

Quickly the roses were in bloom

While he shut himself, in his room


With roses, the love was professed

Exciting emotions were expressed

Hearts were glad and full of rhyme

For achieving so much in little time


Finally; acorn stirred from tranquillity

Amazed, at its own punctuality

It lazily woke and spread its leaves

And felt the dew drops on its tips


He woke at sun up, as always

Scanned the horizon, as other days

His eyesight noticed a new addition

He looked again, with trepidation


Pinched himself and felt the pain

All his worries down the drain

Ran all the way to the new sprout

Looked at it and looked about




Roses were awake and dazzling

But the frost was slowly settling

In a few days the flowers were shed

Leaves followed and the plant slept


The acorn grew a bit and got greener

With open arms, welcomed the winter

It took the northern winds in its sway

The cold never bothered it, anyway


Shallows signalled the onset of spring

New leaves bloomed on roses’ twigs

The branches, however, ran amok

Became fragile and then some broke


Green thumbs became black and blue

In giving the plants what was their due

The oak had to be cared for, like a child

While the roses spread around, all wild


Roses’ former glory couldn’t be restored

In place of old, new seeds were sowed

Beautiful roses again welcomed summer

While the humble oak was a little taller


Year on year new roses were sown

While the oak was a little more grown

The pace no longer disappointed him

On the journey of achieving his dream


Some of the roses weren’t replanted

While some were taken for granted

Occasional blooms often told a lot

Of once what was and is now forgot


The oak still stood tall and proud

Unfluttered, it stood its ground

He sat in its shade and thought aloud

“Thank God, I didn’t follow the crowd”


Now that the oak was fully grown

It wasn’t just a tree; it was a home

Not just to the one who planted it

But also to primroses at its feet


Delicate climbers wound around

In the cracks, squirrels were found

Soft grass covered the ground

Birds provided the musical sound


In the winters the sun shone through

While summer found the leaves anew

Fall witnessed a blanket of golden hue

Underneath it, the mushrooms grew


With stooped back and eyesight weak

He looked at - what was once a seed

He sat down with a satisfied smile

At achieving so much, in so much time


The sun came up and found him cold

Against the trunk with his eyes closed

Leaves covered him in a golden shroud

A hint of that smile lingered about

For ages the oak was tall and strong

Providing hope to all who came along

Inspiring people to dream the invisible

And of a journey, that's very possible