Oaks Poem by Rightly Considered


Two Oak trees have grown well

In a wheat field forgotten now

One a bit taller than the other

One a great father, and one, great mother

South of them a scatter of saplings grow,

For the time of year their acorns drop

North winds are bringing in the fall

Sheltered they will be, as they grow tall

A mystery how these two oaks have grown there

This land is windy, and seldom fair

Perhaps the windy season newly sprung

And not so harsh when they were young

No, a closer look reveals a cavity

On the north side of the ancestral trees

Where once they, had shelter take

all the brunt north winds can make

Older trees than they, once stood

More northern still, to guard the good

That they were raising beneath their bough

With oaths as strong as only oaks can vow

Scattered downwind the little oaks grow

And not so little as the newest crop

With enough rings to be counted now

And acorns that fall from their bough

Planted by providence, together

Each growing to guard God’s chosen front

To withstand the strongest gale

To face alone each would fail

Two oaks, stand, well grown

And beneath them seeds well sown

Of strength and truth and vows unbroken,

And all the things that make an Oak, Oaken.

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