If for a lingering moment
I could talk with a mighty oak tree;
A weathered sentinel, an ancient descent
Of time’s unfurling tapestry.

Etched wisdom in each gnarled contour—
What priceless secrets do they whisper
Of a restless realm that stirs worlds
As our faded footsteps blur.

My friend, if I could borrow your strength,
And a touch of resiliency,
But for a moment in this somber time,
What remains of a cracking legacy.