Song of the Forest

The emerald ceiling hides the light, The shadows dance away the night. The ancient pines are standing tall, They catch the dew before it falls. The velvet moss beneath my feet, Where earth and secret whispers meet. Oh, hear the breath of the willow tree, A symphony wild, a melody free. With roots that hold the history fast, A silent ghost from a buried past. The song of the forest, deep and wide, Where the spirits of moonlight love to hide. The river hums a crystal tune, Reflecting back the rising moon. The cedar wood begins to sigh, Beneath a vast and star-lit sky. No heavy hand can break the spell, Of tales the twisted branches tell. Walk softly now, don’t wake the deer, The pulse of life is beating here. From leaf to thorn, from root to wing, Listen to what the shadows sing. Oh, hear the breath of the willow tree, A symphony wild, a melody free. With roots that hold the history fast, A silent ghost from a buried past. The song of the forest, deep and wide, Where the spirits of moonlight love to hide. The wind recedes, the woods grow still, Across the peak of the lonely hill. Just one last rustle, one final light… The forest sleeps in the arms of night.