Grandfather Oak

I lie under the grandfather oak and look up at the clear sky through the old sinewed branches.  I am alone with my oak at the center of the whole world.

Without warning, a strong wind begins to blow, and the gusts push the strong branches over almost to the ground.  The green field goes swirling, swirling around me and my oak. 

I am afraid, for I do not want to be swirled away from the peace in the center of the field.  I turn over onto my stomach to hide my face against the earth, and grasp the rough oak bark with my hands.  My shirt is whipped about, then goes taut against my side as it caches the wind.

The winds blow harder, and I can feel the old roots groaning, straining to hold fast. 

Suddenly, the winds die, and my tree and I are at rest.  I stay face down with my arms tight against the bark. 

After a time, I look up and see that the green field is back as it was.  There is no evidence that the winds have come and gone.  The grass waves gently in the breeze, the oak stands tall and strong.

I also stand.

                                                    Performed by Margo Sappington in Follow, 1963

                                                                      Lamar Review, 1963-64