🌲 The Forest Remembers
The forest remembers, though it never speaks,
In rings of old oak, in the hush of the creeks.
Each leaf a letter, each branch a line,
Written in silence, outside of time.
It remembers the footfalls of wanderers lost,
The dreams they carried, the bridges they crossed.
The songs they hummed while chasing the light,
And the tears they hid in the cover of night.
It holds the echo of laughter once shared,
By lovers who thought the world never cared.
It keeps the scent of the rain from June,
And secrets whispered beneath the moon.
The moss on stone tells tales of age,
Of storms that passed, of a hermit’s page.
Even the shadows that shift and glide,
Are memories dancing the dusk-tide.
The forest forgets not — it forgives in green,
Its roots run deep where souls have been.
If you sit still, and close your eyes,
You’ll hear its heart beneath the skies.
So come with silence, leave with peace,
Let your restless seeking cease.
The forest remembers — and now, so do you.
In breath, in bark, in morning dew.
