Be Not An Oak

Be not the oak that faces stormy gusts, Which breaks beneath the fury of the wind. Instead, be willow, bending as it must, A haven for the wearied kin, you’ll find.

Be not a rock that dams the rivers’ flow, That brings about the havoc of the flood. Yet be a pebble, letting waters go, Creating paths where once tall barriers stood.

Be not a star that flares with blinding light, A spectacle to all who dare to gaze. Instead, a moon that guides through darkest night, A soothing, gentle source of graceful rays.

Do not be oak, or rock, or star that sears, But willow, pebble, moon that endears.

The Birch Tree

The birch tree braves the winter’s icy grip, Its branches bare, white stark against the sky. It does not mourn the loss of leaves or gold, But waits with patience for the spring to nigh.

The birch tree knows the seasons wax and wane, Each carries purpose, beauty, grace, and pace. It does not fear the frost, the ice, the rain, But greets each one with elegance and grace.

My soul, like birch, endures and perseveres, To rise from earth to heaven’s radiant light. It stands unbowed, unbroken by the cold, But shines with faith and courage through the night.

From birch I learn to face life’s change and strife, To trust in self, let faith and courage guide.