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.