Oh you mighty oak
from the acorn did you spring.
And so you grew slowly
from so small a thing.
Your magnificent stature
brings to mind
how I can hold you
in an acorn I find.
And the beauty of you
I can hold in my hand.
And maybe that's the way
God has planned
to connect my soul
with an oak so tall
that I'll understand
as in all God's things
I am really not that small.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem