Wading in, where the waters are deep and dark,
he paused, oak tree still.
Knowing which way the stick floats,
he paused, oak tree still.
Mid-river, whitecaps grew, bred rushing sounds,
he paused, oak tree still.
His walking stick at the ready, forked end down,
he paused, oak tree still.
Smelling the blooming of the trees near the shore,
he paused oak tree still.
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