Fallen branches, hearts gathering I rise.

Bathed ever softly in the mornings sun light.

A breath so deep the smell of spring strong,

A haunting melody as the breeze plays along.

Dance with me children, let your branches sway,

Shelter in the forest, time for us to play.

Gather your pine cones, branches, and leaves,

We are the forests soul, we are strong, we believe.

© Cynthia Clark