Once there grew an oak tree in a moonlit sky,
no-one expected as much as to wither and die.
It grew strong,
it grew tall,
it stood grounded against all odds,
it withstood harsh weathered winds and fearful floods.
When the sun came it basked with a glow,
but when the rain poured down and gales raged it beamed more and more!
For the tree could branch it's roots and centre as it stands,
or reach out it's branches to capture the wraths of unknown
far away lands...