The mighty oak is rooted firmly in the ground,
Unmoved and unaffected by the storms that come around.
Storms that try and rattle with their bitter cold and sleet;
Storms that cannot win when the oak does not compete.
Content to watch and listen, constantly aware
Of the deepness of its roots, not seen but always there.
The mighty oak is rooted firmly in the ground,
Untroubled and detached from the storms that come around.
Storms that try and injure with their angry winds of rage;
Storms that cannot win when the oak does not engage.
Content to watch and listen, constantly aware
Of the deepness of its roots, not seen but always there.
The mighty oak is rooted firmly in the ground,
Unruffled and unchanged by the storms that come around.
Storms that try and bother with their lightening and their hail;
Storms that try to break the oak but ultimately fail.
Content to watch and listen, constantly aware
Of the deepness of its roots, not seen but always there.
-Lisa Murphy Taylor, © 2009
www.poemeopathy.com
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