The Oak and the Whirlwind

This poem was written for a teacher, friend and co-worker - Dianne Marsh - who is retiring after the 2011-12 school year. I hope you can identify in these words someone from your own life who you admire for their perseverance, their integrity and their dignity.

Long ago a sapling stood.

Imbued with life - enriched by soil,

born from sturdy, solid wood.

With roots buried deep and straight and true,

the young oak was fit to face any fury.

So, duly fortified - it grew and grew.

And as its stature soared,

the growing oak reached out wary limbs.

Seeking - searching out new horizons,

aware of Nature's whims.

For the maturing oak knew,

that a chance whirlwind would gale,

in vain efforts to fell it,

but always to no avail.

Still the whirlwind would blow

from time to time,

testing the oak's certainty,

its steadfastness, its resolve, its climb.

But the oak endured - it grew, it thrived.

Once hesitant limbs now ranged far beyond,

offering shelter and shade

to life newly spawned.

Again a whirlwind would appear

to shake the oak's belief.

But no tantalizing tempest could

unearth its anchor beneath.

For the oak knew that its core

was secure, strond wood.

And no breezes blowing by it

could shake where it stood.

Those who lay under its expanse

knew they would be tested and tried.

Because the oak's limbs would not lower.

They would forever reach high.

This would be its legacy.

The oak did not waver or veer.

Integrity - Dignity - Class.

We will miss these, I fear.