The forest moves in grace and beauty,
patiently waiting her man's rebirth.
Her man now sleeps, with heavy mood,
destroying all in his careless path.
The forest moves in grace and beauty.
Heavy is her sigh, the graceful forest,
hoping not all is lost, forgotten by her man.
She remembers how life once was,
earth and flesh, living as one.
The forest sighs with grace and beauty.
She sees her man taking, with greed,
taking without cause, and not replacing.
Forest ponders, what happened to her man,
to make him a thief of life.
The forest sees her man with grace and beauty.
Sensing, she does, the lost numbers of her kind,
filled with remorse, but still waiting for her man.
She well knows the poisoning of her man,
how ill fit verses, choked out his true life.
The forest waits with grace and beauty.
She knows well, those ill fit verses,
overheard, she did, the verse's sponsors.
Verses they were, from foreign land,
where little grows, and much is sand.
She waits for her man, with grace and beauty.
One day, she knows, her man will awaken,
and the ill fit verses, will fall away.
Thoughts of reunion excite her,
her man coming home to all.
The Gods too, are with her, waiting for man.
Copyright @2014 Terry Unger
