In an autumn field I walked one day…

The breeze blew upon the trees, the poplar, beech and willow, once providing
Portions of this poem appear in
shade, now their leaves in piles lay, but the old oak tree stands alone,
fully dressed, quietly defying the rest. Not one leaf shakes, not one branch
breaks. It is unshaken!… Standing below this majestic tree, surveying the
strength it is to me, I like the oak, holding on to the the old, must wait in His
time to make room for the new. Until then I am left unshaken!
my book “Unshaken”
