Amongst the raging tempest storms,
Dark clouds covered the world
When acorns fell;

Blown hither and thither,
Dented, battered, and broken,
Fields of acorns;

If just one could take root,
Nurtured by hopes and dreams of the many,
To grow from seed, to sapling, to mighty oak;

One acorn could shape the landscape forever,
Changing the views of many,
A memorial to fallen acorns.