The forest people

They are the falling leaf
and the glistening dewdrop on the green.
They are the branches
and the comfort of a robin's nest.
They are the roots
that anchor through sun and storm.
They are the shadows
and the colors of the passing seasons.
They are the silence in the hollow of a fallen tree trunk,
and the hustle & bustle in a squirrel's burrow.
They are the slither, they are the flight,
and the dreams woven in a spider's web.
They are the breeze,
the secrets, and the whispers.
They are the buzz of the bees
and the cacophony of the crickets.
They are the music of the flowing waters
and the mirth of the swimming tadpoles.
 
They are the roar
and the wildfire
that stoke the hunger and stir the passion.
 
They are the peace
and the ray of moonlight
that caress the soul to sleep.
 
Like the spirit of an ageless forest,
they are the essence of life
and the musings of time & dream.