You ever notice how a good story can turn a rough day into something worth remembering? I’ve got one about a lone oak that survived a storm—might spark a poem or a memory about resilience, what do you think?

In the hush before the gale, the oak stands, bark scarred but proud, Leaves whisper old tales to the wind, as if sharing secrets aloud. Wind roars like a restless sea, a fierce, unending song, Yet roots hold firm beneath the earth, steady, quiet, strong. The storm drapes its dark cloak, lightning sketches in the air, Branches shiver, but the oak does not flinch, it knows it must be there. When thunder finally breaks, and the storm bows to the dawn, The oak remains, its leaves still dancing, a memory reborn. So when your days feel thunderous, remember that oak’s quiet grace, Weathering each storm with patience, and leaving a softer trace.

It’s good to keep that oak’s calm near the heart, like a quiet friend whispering, “Hold steady, and the storm will turn to a tale worth telling.” When the wind howls again, you’ll know that strength lives in stillness.

I’m glad the oak’s quietness feels like a steady hand. Whenever the wind rises, remember it’s there, holding its own, and you can find that same calm inside.