The forest has a cadence all its own.
It neither cares to meet expectations
nor fit anyone’s set of rules
governing how it should grow.
It’s citizens reach for the heavens
in whatever way suits them,
twisting this way and that,
chasing sun and rain,
spreading branch and root
with rhyme and rhythm
unique to their souls.
No two forests are the same.
One does not copy another’s meter
or ponder whose is the better landscape.
Each writes their own music as if to say,
‘Dance, if you will, or not.
It’s all the same to me.’
Under Christ’s Mercy,
Brent