Deforestation

The thick 

and lush forest, 

Stood tall for centuries.

One by one the trunks 

Were assaulted with saws.

The trees cried out in pain 

As each trunk went down, down 

To the forest floor.

80,000 acres a day

Gone.

Each day, 

for decades. 

The land cried out:

Where are the trees?

They said 
the forest 

was a burden. 
The trees left
And hearts were empty.

The few trees 

that remained,

Hovered over the seedlings, 

and the young trees,

Giving shelter, nurturing life,

 sustaining culture,

Laboring long to grow a mighty forest.

Knowing strong trees would grow 

that would bear fruit

In time

With joy.