How I long to be like you, White Oak
Standing tall and regal
You fulfill your niche as an edifice of omniscience
Wearing proud your burl as if it were a purple heart

But perhaps it is a purple heart,
A Timberland Medal of Honor generated from bacteria and plague
The burl you boast is a bulbous scar
Informing your onlookers “I survived”

I too am still standing, White Oak
I’ve weathered my failures,
Teach me the trade of your bravery, muse of Mother Nature
Show me how to wear my battle wounds like a diamond ring

When they come to slice me open
The exploitation of my innards will taste nothing but familiar.