The tempest unfurls her fury,
Flinging branches like match sticks.
Roofs sent across streets.
Menacing clouds fill the skyline.
Yet at the center all is calm.
The golden lines spread out
Rise up and back down; a torus
Is formed. Frictionless energy.
The storm cuts a path through the wood
While the mighty oak, a symbol of strength
Becomes uprooted in gusty winds.
Yet the sapling bends,
Its greenwood helps it survive.
While it is thrashed to and fro,
It knows this helps its strength to grow.
Just when it feels ready to break
The winds and clouds dissipate.
Golden rays of sunlight stream down
And warm the air all around
While tattered leaves bask in their golden glow,
Enjoying the break before it is time again
to dance to and fro.