The forest is alive, starting life from just a seed, needing earth, water and light to survive.
Its bark smooth, a small yet fragile sapling reaching up to reach the sky.
Through storms, lightning strikes, drought, cold winters long, even from human hands.
Now standing taller than the rest, it still stands.
In time the mighty tree will fall and return to the earth where its life began, in turn creates an open space,
for underneath this once mighty trees shade a small but fragile sapling that struggled to survive will soon take its place.
Over time this once mighty tree will soon disappear into the ground to nurture this small tree,
for someday this tree will be taller than the rest, reaching up to the sky, part of the forest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem