The acorn falls from the big proud tree,
He says. "Look mama the wind don't faze me."
His downword fall as he says to all,
"Good by I'll miss you ya"ll."
Mama then replies. "Good luck my son,have a joyous ride,"
Though not far away he lands and hides.
He falls in the tickle grass and rolls along gayly.
The touch of it rubs him so sweetly.
He stops to rest near the tulips and ferns,
Far away for a lesson he must learn.
Mama tree watches him daily grow
still loving him ever so
Till one day he stretches his branches out,
Now far bigger than a once small sprout.
"I thought I was so alone, so long ago,
But here I nest right next to you, as you grow old."
As they talk while the wind blows gently
the acorns from the branches fall freely.
They watch them fall with love and pride,
Together, always wondering the destination of their ride.
September 15, 2009
When I walked my dog this morning an acorn fell gently to the ground. I heard it land. This poem came and took me for a few minutes on a whispful creative ride, but the poem it's self to me represents the raising of a child as we do the best we can to raise them to grow as the little acorn----wise, tall and strong.