Forests are vast,
And they are varied.
A myriad species,
With a history buried,
Deep within a common soil.
Bark and leaves,
Come in many shades,
Roots entangle,
Branches braid.
The trees reach new heights every day.
No matter their shape, size,
Color or orientation,
Ingrained in their veins lies,
The survival of their nation.
They demonstrate what community should be. You see —
No tree is identical,
But they breathe the same air,
Consume the same food,
And know how to share,
And each tree knows that,
United they stand,
That together they grow,
And sculpt their precious land.
The trees acknowledge the truth in this plan.
Yes, forests are varied and,
This is why they survive,
Their beauty is diversity,
That allows them to thrive,
Years jiving and alive past a hundred and five.
So, if nature embraces such differences in grace,
Then, why is it so damn hard for the human race?
About the Creator
A.
I write because I have a hard time expressing emotions in person.
My stories are mainly rooted in family and in memory of those I have lost. But, I’ll admit - crime, horror, and mystery do give me the occasional thrill.
Twas a Cold Winter Eve
Bacon sizzled in the background, and steam swirled from the untouched coffee cups between the elderly couple. Most observers would hardly notice the stoic couple sitting in the Bleecker Street diner where they had first met forty years earlier. Surrounded by Christmas décor, carols thrummed through speakers mounted in the ceiling. Bing Crosby yodeled White Christmas as large snowflakes fluttered to the ground outside.
By J. S. Wade4 days ago in Fiction
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