Walking out in the autumn sunshine after a big storm, I came across a fallen tree. One I have seen for many years and a tree that had seen many centuries. The scene inspired a few thoughts.
Explorers of the dark
Silence and sun – the storm has gone.
Nature breathes again after the battle of the night
Now sunbeams play on trickling streams
And silence is broken by the water running away.
There in the middle of the winter wheat, a great oak has fallen.
Four hundred years it stood – its time has come.
It yields now to saw and axe to be returned to earth and air.
Its spirit will yield slowly giving shelter, heat and light.
A crater’s left by roots torn up – ground never seen before.
Darkness and damp rule beneath in land of mole and worm.
Yet this tree did not fear to go there.
Indeed if it did not explore the deep it would not have lived a full life.
As the acorn first sprouts, no green shoot or flower emerges,
But a white dagger pointed to hells deep and darkened realm.
It smites the earth, commissioned as pioneer for this great tree.
For here in the darkness food, foothold and fresh water is found.
It is said that the most precious gems come from the deepest, darkest mines.
The freshest water comes from a mountain spring its source in unseen rocky places.
And so the oak from the dark and deep,
provides shelter and food for bird, butterfly and boar.
Its courage to explore the dark deep providing for many and it will bear fruit.
But who is the braver, the tree or the acorn ?
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