The Ballad of a Pinecone

Do not mistake a forest for a place of peace.

It is a microcosm of the tenacity and aggression of life,

an arms race of leaves and stems in a conquest for sunlight,

balanced only by those species willing to subvert the system,

those that are able to thrive in the shade or bloom in the twilight.

If you ask a moonflower if she misses the sun,

she will turn her cheek and smile at her burn scars.

No, she would much rather go back to blooming in the quieter hours,

safe from the morning glories

who would throttle their neighbour for a five minute headstart on dawn.

The twilight is a lovely time of day.

*

Author's note: A snippet that didn't make the cut for a story I'm working on for the Whispering Woods challenge but still thought might be worth sharing with the world.