that teaches each
acorn to defy the pull
down, to interrupt
horizontal space.
And falling, filtering
through the pale green leaves,
it is rain that rises,
then, like a spring
at a sapling's heart.
It is wind that trains,
toughens the wood.
It is time that spreads
the grain in rings --
dark ripples in
a slow pond.
From "The Meaning of White Oaks," Luci Shaw
