The great oak rises from the regal earth,
Its huge branches reaching, twisting and turning toward the
sky like slow lightening.
Ancient lightening from the earth bursting forth,
A slow green spark lit by the earth herself.
Through the eons, the steady earth goes gently with seasonal
rhythm.
And hard rock melts into tears of sand,
While the sky moves with wild abandon; its wind, its
lightening and storms,
A warrior in a constant war whose battles change
daily;
The earth, an aged queen,
Repeats herself, quietly retelling her story
forever.
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