At the feet of the old oak tree, we danced round and round with abandon. Our circle was charged with reverence honoring our tree’s fidelity.
This mighty oak provided countless quiet shelter right there under its expanding arms. The old oak soaked all our utmost secrets which we related to him in this quiet solitude of its shadow.
Our old friend always rejoiced with the approaching laughter of excited little children. Children would caress its core as a dear child clings to a mother.
Today, a fierce storm passed through our field breaking our ancient oak in half. It succumbed mercilessly falling noisily to the ground.
Once again we gathered our circle, hand in hand at the fallen feet of our nature guru. We offered humble praise for his life.
With hope in our hearts new circles will be born, the old oak’s seeds will bring new tender shoots. In the field children will discover standing little oaks.
The undying circle of nature will come to be through mother nature’s undenying rejuvenation.
The circle of life will be shared through kind spirit generations.
Hélène Vaillant© September 30, 2017