Tangles

2

It's a hot dry desert day,

Sands sweeping across the landscape,

I ask if you're okay,

You say there's no escape.

Back to the forest,

Where trees are bustling in the air,

The forest bursting with life,

Leaves dancing,

Water splashing,

Birds singing.

It is a place of life,

A place of energy and movement,

A circus act of nature, freaky and erratic.

Trees moving randomly,

The wind breathing life into every inch of the soil,

Every drop of the water,

The forest is alive.

It has a rhythm,

A beat

And though you've grown less fond of the forest,

It is still my favourite thing to see.

You do not like the way in which the wind rushes about,

I see the wind sparking dance, colour,

You see it too, there is no doubt

In my mind as to whether or not this forest is alive.

It is alive.

Stems walking the tightrope to grow into plants,

Bearded ladies springing branches in all directions,

Life is the real freak here,

But this is a circus,

So that's the way we like it.

Forget the hot desert,

With sweeping sands for a landscape,

Let's stay in the forest,

Watch it take shape.

Illustration by Martha Birtles