Little Oak Tree

The oak tree stood tall.
As dark nights fall and flower stems grow.
It was a mystical night.

All stars,no clouds in sight.
Sure,the sky was black.
But it was like a nightfall glitter.

We ate chocolates and the taste wasn’t bitter.
If you asked me here and now.
Are you afraid of darkness?

I would smile anyhow.
Because to me,it brings comfort.
It doesn’t scare me at all.

The nights glow brighter,the tree stood tall.
If you look at anything from a poet’s eyes,you can find beauty.
Darkness counts too.

So look at things brighter and use it as a tool.
Now,it was no ordinary tree.
It was unique,believe me.

From it rooted from his words.
And so,it created new worlds.
That day we spoke during nightfall.

I asked,what do you see?
His eyes sparkled and he responded,something wonderful.
And an idea sparked within me.

Now,I am writing this story.
A little oak tree in all its glory.
Its leaves rustled before me.

And this is what he told me.
Grow little tree,grow tall.
I will water you so you don’t fall.

And the tree grew taller and taller.
The days warm,the nights colder.
And so now,I am writing this all for him.

That tree shall have leaves,their color not dim.
Little oak tree,go and grow.
My ink and pen won’t let you fall.

His words grew deeper in its roots.
And we watered it every single day.
Even when one of us was away.

He told me the story of a tree.
And he said,it will grow into something wonderful,believe me.
Tell me you won’t let that tree fall.

And my pen and ink will make it grow.
It truly was a wonderful day.
Wind chyme,as our playlist play.