Rainforest

I hear animals cry out around me, but I pay no heed. If one should pass by, I am unaware. I am not for them. I am for the trees.

I am for the trees that rise so far above, blacking much of the sunlight, making it fall in patches on the forest floor.

I am for the trees, tall guardians of life, oblivious to our presence, yet maintaining our world.

I am for the trees.

I close my eyes, blocking out the light, and turn my mind to the earth.

There, amidst the stones and dirt and fallen leaves, a tiny sprout reaches up toward the sunlight. I touch the leaves, lifting them up, helping them escape the ground.

I feel the tiny plant growing , reaching up, fighting the earth's pull. I feel the stem become a trunk, the two leaves become twenty, two hundred, two thousand. I feel twigs become branches, and branches become limbs. I feel the little tree draw water up though the roots, pull carbon dioxide in from the air, and combine them to create the stuff that life is made of.

I feel the tree reaching up, up, up, ever seeking the sun's light.

I feel the pain as a fire's rapacious rush strips leaves from twigs, twigs from branches. I feel the hope as new leaves form.

I feel the scampering of small animals, the passage of snakes, the growth of vines.

I feel the prescence of new life as birds hatch in a nest amoung the boughs.

I feel all this and I know that this world of life is the greatest thing one can ever hope to be a part of.