an oak tree stands tall in a field
she has been there for hundreds of years and she has no intent on moving anytime soon
she has grown
she has become a home to many who have come across her
she has seen a plethora of ordeals:
     love
     hate
     depression
     excitement
     birth
     and death
she knows all
yet she still keeps the same firm face

a storm hits her field
lightening fills the sky and thunder echos in the air
it is frightening
but the oak stays in her spot
and keeps her face firm

in the commotion
she is struck
a new orange glow bursts from her regular green and brown tones

she is ablaze

every piece of her is burning
a pain that could never be known fills her every atom
all of her friends scatter from her branches
saving themselves from the heat

she stands alone

she feels every inch of pain
she watches everyone she has ever known leave her
she is aware of the inevitable for not even the harsh rain and brutal hail can calm this blast

yet still
she does not move
her face stays firm and her screams stay shut within the bark till she is nothing but ash washed into the new mud of an old home

the orange glow fades as suddenly as it arrived
her residents find new homes
her pain is forgotten

what was once the center of this field
a reliable home
a being who knew everything that came with life
now knows only what she is: nothing.