Behold, two small oak seeds lay,
Begin to grow on separate days.
The sun shines bright upon the two,
The festered ground to feed them new.
They grow and grow and all the while,
The great rift shrinking though hostile.
The bliss had passed,
The tempest amassed,
Now tree sprouts,
Start the reckoned days.
Now see the tree sprouts slowly raise,
Pushing fast through all the days.
The sun shines less upon the pair,
The dry dirt caked,
A tricksters snare.
Though slow, they grow, and all the while,
The great rift shrinking though hostile.
The tempest passing ,
Unifying,
Coupled through the wind-blown flays.
Two saplings grow together now,
Intertwined, a final vow.
The sun, though dim, they share, those two,
The saps, through barren ground, they grew.
The great rift now is gone for good,
In place, the roots connected, stood.
The tempest passed,
With love, outlast,
Grafted trees to ne'er detach
Now see the trees, together grow,
The final vow, the final blow.
