I Heard the Woods Crying

Walking down a trotted weedy lane Beside the early morning misty dew. Before the birds began their songs, Before the sun took up its pew. The trees along the lane were still To ward off the morning chill. And walking up the narrowing path The lonely mist upon my shoes. I felt the silence speak to me As if it needed someones help, To fill the world with shame Allowing trees to win the game. That morning by the stony path, A lovely fawn began to feed. While its mother watched to see If I meant them any harm. And up the trail a silent lake, Began to shake itself awake. Sounds of engines could be heard As they hungrily began to feed Upon defenseless smiling trees. The stillness heard the noise and fled; And all at once I felt alone As I heard the forest's moan.