It was measured by a ruler
And reached knee-high.
Quite a riot it will stir
When it climbs high to the sky.
The mighty oak of any place
Shall put its people in a blissful state
As they watch it ascend
Starting as the seed from which it began.
Thick and sturdy it now stands
Without a sound
As it brushes the clouds
With leaves and branches bound.
All can acquire a gaze
And see the humble glory
Of a being unfazed
That has witnessed many a man’s story.
Living through numerous mortal generations,
It stands in one station,
Quietly overcoming its hurdles.
