I am becoming an oak tree. No longer an ordinary acorn to be collected by passing children, I stand tall, resolute. I feel my newfound strength with both the pride and uncertainty that come with self-reliance. With pride, my branches extend, ever-enduring, ever-reaching for unexplored horizons. With uncertainty, I hold on to my leaves, the only parts of me that I know may not always be.
I am becoming an oak tree, fearless, yet not to be feared. My stillness makes me yearn to bring the same lasting peace to others. Waiting for nothing in return, I offer the coolness of my shadow. Once only a sprout peering out from the soil, I can now give the gift of my encompassing vastness. I have long awaited this day, the day that I might return the kindness this earth has shown me and prove that I was worthy of its favors.
I am becoming an oak tree. Though my strength may be expected, to me, it has been my life’s work, not bestowed upon me by nature, but earned through resolve. The source of this resolve has remained unseen by most; I owe my might to my unyielding roots. My life began in darkness. Buried deep beneath the ground, I wondered when, if ever, I would feel the warmth of the sun or its radiance. My roots knew what I did not: to reach the light, I would have to descend even further into the darkness. Only then would I earn the right to tower above the ground with the quiet fortitude I now wear humbly.
I am becoming an oak tree. Though my might seems infinite, I am not unmoved by the changes around me. My trunk, once smooth and fragile, is now a column of force covered in unforgiving bark. And yet, I must confess that I am not above the thrust of a winter storm or the innocent nudge of a summer breeze. Inflexible as I may seem, my branches sway in rhythmic submission, not wishing to question the wisdom of nature’s plan.
Giving with no desire of receiving, firm, yet obedient, I have become an oak tree.