I once stood tall, with leafy pride,
but now I rest, my rings inside. By fire I'm fed, by axe I'm split, on forest floors, I sometimes sit. I'm not a frog, yet I still croaked, What am I, once part of oak?

I travel far without a tread, I have no feet, yet surge ahead. I kiss the shore, then slip away, but I’ll return again amongst the fray.

Im born from tears and love to surprise, I mirror the clouds and reflect the skies. Jump in with boots or twirl like a dancer, But where do I go when the sun brings its answer?

I hold what’s wild, yet I do not bite, with steel or woven might. I do not move, but I confine, a prison small by grand design. You’ll find me where the songbirds sing, or where the lion’s roars might ring.

I dance with rage across the land, with swirling skirts of dust and sand. I have no feet, yet leave a trail, no voice, yet I roar. I vanish fast, but not before I knock on every house and door.