I knelt down upon the ground and stared at the oak leaf with its clinging cluster of three acorns. Looking up at all the oak trees I wondered which one was planting her seeds. They were all oak trees yet not one was an exact replica of the other. Within each acorn was thousands of years of the essence of oak trees yet how they grew, the dance of their limbs and the bending or straightness of their trunks would reflect their own uniqueness that would develop as they responded to life and the seasons of change. I pondered the seasons awaiting the acorns, so much awaited their cracking open until at last, neither shell nor earth could keep them from knowing the sun ...and change.
Standing up the flower's petals whispered. Delicate, soft and gentle unlike the solid oaks. Both flower and oak will forever hold their essence, their choices, change and loss inflicted and change and loss chosen. One cannot cut out the past or what was. But in the strength of the tall oaks and the defiance of their tiny acorns who thought themselves to be mighty oaks, and the gentle folding of a flower's petals, one lesson, one whisper, one thread would forever be constant... Life is unfolding, seek the sun.