Our heritage is a Live Oak, the roots lie buried, spread wide and unseen,
digging deep, the anchor of our being.
Our heritage is a Live Oak, the branches stretched out from old to new,
occasionally to break and wither from view.
Our heritage is a Live Oak, a leaf is shed and blown by wind,
a reflection of changing seasons and reasons.
Our heritage is a Live Oak, the limbs spread wide to shade and shelter,
if not sought, no protection is brought.
Our heritage is a Live Oak, the roots thirsting for elements of life,
to nourish our soul, to flow with new might.
Our heritage is a Live Oak, the surface rough and unsightly may be,
but viewed again, the beauty is seen.
Our heritage is a Live Oak, the shape is twisted by wind and time,
a destiny guided by unseen lines.
Our heritage is a Live Oak, a heavy burden may split away,
the wound to heal, a stronger new way.
Our heritage is a Live Oak, the trunk our foundation,
the past our formation.
Our heritage is a Live Oak,
a new ring is formed as our antiquity is born.
Our heritage is a Live Oak.
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