‘Let the cries be heard – the forest belongs to every bird!’

I must be able to be in the woods,
my soul always longs for being there.
My feet desires to burrow in the moss,
and be camouflaged by flowers fair.

They chop down my friends,
letting the pine trunks fall.
To make money from an asset,
which not should be owned by few,
– but by us all.

It’s our habitat they’ve razed,
where our mushrooms, flowers, and animals
should grow in stillness and peace.
It’s our home they’ve destroyed
where every butterfly and every cone,
deserve to spend their time under the trees.

‘Let the shouts ring out – the forest belongs to everyone!’

We deserve to be able to listen to the babbling brook,
and hear the wind play, swirl and dance.
Be filled with fresh air, the sun sparkling, and scent of soil,
in a rush of nature romance.

The forest belongs to you and me,
so we must defend it as a dear friend.
For if the moose’s, hares, foxes, birds, and squirrels,
could defend the woods,
had our days in beautiful forests,
– not have had a sad end.

Without the forest, we would starve from rootlessness and thirst for beauty.
We become impersonal, rigid, and too similar,
so keeping the forest alive, is our duty!
Cut off at the ankles, we fall helplessly to the ground,
so we mustn’t let the forest, the animals, and ourselves down!

Who wants to live like a stacked trunk by a roadside,
without family, and not belonging to something at all.
Don’t let them shaped you into planks, sawdust and toilet paper,
because when the nature is destroyed, also we fall.

Poetic Artstories