ACORN

who knows
the pain of acorn
become oak the time
the trunk the roots
pacing its growth
both width and height
leaves air borne, birds to
nest, roots sipping rain drops
and water, to spread, then fork
then spread -- rejoicing
this miracle of rebirth
brown leaves clinging thru
winter until spring when new
ones burst forth the old
knowing release
and the
poet
paints
truth
music
words
with ink
honor and integrity.

- Sam Hill

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