While a breeze filters through forest leaves,

Each responds in a different manner,

Some the flurry, others a gentle toss,

When still another might settle to earth.

 

In eyes the story is spoken in soft sound,

Branches wave to the morning glance,

Hypnotic in their own natural elements

We can stand this quiet forever I believe.

 

Inside their universe we have built a wood,

A shelter, whereby in a storm we will watch

The leaves tear from limb, the branches split.

Swift natural survival of a forest our witness

 

Outside in the silence is a remarkable chaos

Without, within, our humanity lends a moss.