Under the skins of the thickest forests
Below the skies of a burning polish
Between the lands of hidden trail
Above the winds that set the sails
Tucked away in the deepest leaves
Lives a deep, bright, burning seed.
The seed was key to the forest growth
It burned with truth and bled an oath.
The forest turned to the seed through time.
The seed it listened and lent its mind
It fed the leaves and taught the earth
It moved the waters, giving winds their worth
Within this seed the branches breathe.
Chattering leaves, bark bared with teeth
Beneath this seed the ground thinks,
Echoing wisdom, empowered, in sync
Amongst the seed the river feels.
Turning with force driven on wheels.
Around this seed the winds live.
Whispering secrets to the moon it gives.
For many moons the seed exhales.
The forest breathes as it prevails.
Day by day and hour by hour
The forest grows off the seeds true power.
Through storms of season and rain that falls
The nights draw long and the skies cold.
The clouds roll over, the thunder roars
The lightenings strike and the moon is corpse.
While frightful are the storms.
The seed conquers force
For now its dull, but still will shine.
With twists its weak, but continues to twine.
On the thirteenth day of the thirteenth second
The moon parades and the darkness is beckoned.
The storm is too quick
The forest is eclipsed.
Though here we fear defeat
The seed pulses with beat.
The frightened Trees, they thrash
And the seed burns stronger,
The ground rumbles with terror
And the seed grows wiser.
The trembling rivers, they burst
And the seed lights fiercer.
The winds quiver their wildest gales
And the seed moves faster.
Stronger than ever before.
Away and away the seed roars.
Crashing out of the forest floors.
Up and up into the sky
To the highest climb beholding the eye.
Here it stays knowing the morn
With the shine from the deepest storm.
The forest holds the message
Through time of dark hold courage
Though rain will thrash and winds may gale
Within your soul your seed prevails.
- A Poem by Megan Huntoon