Seasons of The Forest

The sun rises over a lush green forest Awakening to life. The scent of dew is heavy on the cool air, as the first birds awaken And begin their calls. Their high notes drift lightly upon the air. With the rise of the sun the plants start their silent struggle, Growing towards the light. A boar meanders through the brush Stops And begins to burrow into the ground Searching for food. The heavy musk that rises from Its body wards off other creatures. The sun sets over the hills Its last rays reflecting over a lake The water glistening in the failing light. The chirping of the insects picks up Immediately as twilight descends. As the night deepens a wolf Emerges from his den, And slowly climbs up the precipice of a cliff His silver gray fur has a dull sheen in the moonlight He lifts his head, Slowly And emits a low howl, Baying to the full moon. A small hare In a nearby bush Takes a mad dash at the sound of the Nearby wolf call. At the sudden movement The wolf turns his head, sharply, And without hesitation begins the chase. The rabbit keeps up its mad dash, Barely ahead of the jaws of the silver Wolf. The wolf runs, In a way that he appears to glide Over the land, his paws barely Touching the ground before they are up again. Gaining ground his jaws open, And in an audible snap His fangs close around the rabbit Piercing its dull brown fur. The rabbit, in its dying throes, emits A high pitched yell, reminiscent Of a woman’s scream. The blood spurts from the open holes, In its neck. Seasons change Time goes by the rabbit decomposes, Sinking into the Earth. Becoming one with it. The sun is high in the sky, on a crisp Autumn day. The leaves have all turned from a verdant green to Golds, reds, and brilliant oranges. The leaves fall, Slowly drifting towards the ground, But before they do the wind picks up The leaves drifting upon the wind currents. The animals catching Nature's bounty, In preparation for the cold months ahead. The fruit ripens and falls from the trees. The squirrel grabs the acorns from the forest Floor and stows them away. A bear ambles out of the foliage, Shaggy, fur and fat thick Upon him, In preparation for his winter slumber. The sky above is gray, overcast. Winter has come. Snowflakes drifting, lazily, down. It is a heavy snow the flakes fat, And wet. Careening towards the Earth, haphazardly. The animals of the forest Wake from the weather The cold a mild sting That invigorates And sharpens the senses. A snowshoe hare bounces atop The fallen snow. Its feet barely leaving imprint, As the the weight is spread Evenly 'cross the snow. The trees, bare, Bereft of leaves, Look lifeless. Only sleeping till warmer months. Their branches dark tendrils Stabbing up at the sky. The mountain lion and her cubs Nearby In her cave, Cower for warmth. She cannot hunt, Cannot feed her cubs, From a broken leg, Received from a prowling he wolf. Her tan coat has lost its luster. The skin has grown loose As the flesh beneath it has withered. Her cubs cry softly, starving. All will slowly starve. So is winter's deadly embrace. Only the strong survive. Winter thaws leading to spring, And so the cycle begins anew With a chance at new life. Snow melts watering the flowers, As they open their faces to the new sun. All at once, as if they had planned it, The animals come out to witness, Nature's resurrection. The months of hoarding precious body fat, For warmth and sustenance Are over. Nature's bounty is immense, And the new season begins, With a feast. The trees are green again, The buds open up releasing New leaves To replace the ones they had shed. The air is crisp and clean. All take a deep breath of the fresh air of spring, And feel revitalized, Ready for the seasons to come.