Examining the acorn,

As it falls from greener heights,

Plink as it hits the ground,

And it bounces high once more,

Then returns to plink and rolls,

And thus it is the acorn,

Its life begun dangling,

And then falls and hits the ground,

And bounces but does not break,

For its shell has been prepared,

And a bed of leaves lay there,

Mother tree’s protection from that bitter earth,

Where it will lie in wait,

Bury itself into the dirt,

And sprout anew beside mother’s girth,

So in the acorn do I see,

A certain thought to mirror me,

As it prepares for its final rush,

As it breaks away towards life anew,

And will hit the ground and bounce quite harsh,

And crack it may, but break it resists,

If faith it has in Mother’s best,

The acorn and I, ready to face

That falling and not knowing but having faith,

And putting all we know at stake,

That when we meet the ground we bounce, not break.