As I walk through the woods, I hear the soft crush of spiritless leaves- And as I look up into the Trees, I see the fresh signs of new ones. This seems to signal that life never dies- But only continues. Squirrels scurry to meet up with others, In order to make their lives content. All around, there is that sign of new, young life- But what has been left behind? Under the ground, What indications are there? Maybe foot prints that were never destroyed, Maybe even fossils or lost treasures- Anything which would hint at the others, Who have been here before us. We never know just what is rally all around us. Who are these people- Who have figured out the secrets of nature? Just common people like you and me Who dared to be different, Ones who stepped out- And made something of themselves.