Dry secluded woods

Lie unnoticed untapped

By the scarce passers by

Racing through the way.

Rustling twigs do not voice

their sad slogans of attention

When they are ignored

Under the noise of human’s inner turmoil.

Once they were lush

Bursting in green

Offered melodious leisure

By serenading lost hunters

With chirp of birds

Who sang with the wind

long ago up until

were sacrificed to hostility,

But the colors and the songs,

Disappeared altogether,

And

Mother Earth

Shook with a spell of tremor

When a felled tree

Died on the forest floor.

Dense cold soothing shadows

Left the golden crust.

Wind smothered its cry

And mockingbirds flew away

Rainfall came with lethargy

Turning the grass from green to yellow.

Water too slowly evaporated

Making life so dispersed

The forlorn wind, still there

Shouts into the forest ears

Perhaps, it had been waiting

For someone to hear

And prevent from felling

These logs of wood some day.