The old oak tree rooted back to the early sixteen hundreds.
Witness of love, death, loyalty, and betrayal.
The branches grew dropping more fleshy seeds.
Like the living Earth, what you cut will bleed.
A horror show for nearly one hundred haunting years.
The rains hardly fell for the lack of emotion brings no tears.
A ray of sunlight so beautiful and magical, it brought life.
Growing in strength and regaining health through the light.
More seeds fall with the promise of a loving return.
What was taught, if understood was well learned.
Bare lands soon flourish with strong and mighty oak trees.
Days break way to colder nights, preparing for the freeze.
Not all made it, some died so young, some never seen light.
Weeping with sadness but understanding that death is part of life.
The light and rains stayed true to the beautiful strong oak trees.
Always promising after dreadful months to bring happiness and relief.
A small forest now all started from the rain, light and a lonely seed.
Loyalty in life isnít a mere want itís something we all need.
Darkness came rushing in like nothing they ever felt before.
Depression, anxiety and deeper darkness fed on the core.
Nothing heals and nothing grows, itís now like time in reverse.
Knowing I am the bad seed that began this chaotic curse.
If you look at the history of our beloved family oak tree.
The one hanging on the far left is me.