art Nature

When Woodlands Sing

The Earth has music for those who listenWilliam Shakespeare

Now the woodland sing
Many voices play out,
Zithering crickets
Hissing reptiles
Tweeting birds
And snorting boars

All incessant cries
From hawks and egrets
The sky an airy circus,
Below squirrels and rodents
Forage through tree roots
When beloved nuts drop

Water from rapids
Throw fine curtains
Down on dull rocks
When the rush reach
Pebbles hurdle jointly
And the sound vibrant

The streams flow quietly
Under canopies of trees
Frog mobs leap and croak
Fingerlings create ripples
And when a fruit drop
The sluggish fish scatter

Tonight, the moon glow
In her watchful glare
Bat whines rent,
Owl wings flutter,
Rodents scratch the wood
And the wind howl outside

The moon lights the path
Smell of soup sweet
And lullabies, stories of wit
Go around the huts
In no time men snore
To complete the cycle

Now all create a harmony,
An unorganised melody
Held only by the green forest,
With her cheerful inhabitants
And whoever may listen
Will own it too!

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