What the Oak Knows

I’ll wear this coat of fog for now, though define me it does not, I’m the oak, strong and proud remaining free of lies and rot.

Let the others lose their shape, when idle winds blow wrong, ’tis with support of my friends, I bend, no snap, grow strong.

Some stop for just a brief chirp, while others become a long time friend, migration may take them here or there but those connections will never end.

What we would do without the other to protect us from life’s storms, and help us understand the path since being little acorns.