A Grateful Look

As the journey through the trees is made,

Soft are our feet that tread.

Refreshed by the dew falling off of the leaves,

By raw nature we are led.

Gracious are the creatures here.

Though not all of them lurk in the dark.

The few who prefer the shadows have perfected staying unseen,

creating a unique fine art.

So, tiring it must be.

To live in a world where one can only be right or wrong.

The human's hypocrisy is, they turn on their mother,

Then get confused about why they don't live so long.

Will there always be rotten energy?

All throughout the air.

It is a wonder how that vibration is put up with,

Without everyone falling to constant despair.

The magic we all sow in the works that we do.

The knowledge we bring to the table, although do not openly speak

Would tremble your very bones,

Give massive hope to the meek.

The mushrooms and the bark,

The flowers of the forests too,

All are different medicines.

Specific bits of magic to help see the body through.

When you immerse yourself in nature

You learn how the mother works

The things she will allow,

All the things that get her twirked.

Such rage our mother must have

Loving us enough to spare us the pain she feels.

Maybe one day we shall take notice

To how patiently she kneels.

Until then, there must be someone,

Why should it not be the faeries?

For the one who gave the magic to the forests

Will never forget the broken trees.