Family OakA Poem by Richard M Despite disability, the love and strength of my family is everything! From family oak my seed fell to the ground like a whisper without a sound, swept aside by the winds of change, washed away by the driving rains. I came to rest on a patch of rough, the going hard, times were tough, but that good old family oak.
Through days and years of sun and tears I began to put down roots, through pain and trial, under stormy skies my seed began to shoot from that good old family oak.
From acorn seed I grew up strong round summers come and winters gone, winds blew strong and clouds grew black, thunder rolled and lightning cracked, the rains beat down but the sun did shine as I grew sturdy through family line. Our histories entwined within my grain, each knotty ring we're all the same, together we've grown though life's change, growing through the love we saved in that strong old family oak.
For years a child played within my branches, risking life taking chances, he'd fall down, get up again and continue on just the same. His want to live and play life's game with family, friends, his light aflame, living each day its ebbs and flows, scratches, bruises, tales of woe, taking on what other kids do, same adventures just following queue.
I watched him play in my shade, good times had, plans were made, running along with the crowd, every mile a strain of proud. Each day heard a different song, each year a new vein of strong was notched in that good old family oak.
From early days a sapling small, with every struggle and every fall I watched him grow by the year and held him close through nights of tears. School days, jobs, battles fought each one with it achievements brought, with each step, change and shadow long emotions felt but a forest strong. Day to day each passing stage and every one like ink on page, from walking frame to licence and car, each milestone but a measure that marked his path and spoke of that strong old family oak.
Hard times come a branch will break and to the core my trunk it shakes, winds and storms roots deeper still, spreading further the iron of will. Years go by and years go round, I grow stronger without a sound from that good old family oak.
My roots stay grounded in my past, lessons, memories, meanings, things that will last, remembering the days of struggles long round winters come and summers gone, I grow still through the years from children's laughter and mourning tears. But that good old family oak is the strength of me for the distances ahead I cannot see, its breath and sunshine in my days, through winter chill and summer haze is that strong old family oak.
© 2018 Richard MAuthor's Note
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Richard MCowra , New South Wales , AustraliaAboutHi, I'm Richard. It says I'm new, but have been here for some time. I live in country NSW, Australia. I was born with a severe handicap, but have always lived in 'mainstream' society; family, scho.. more..Writing
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