New Dawn
Tread gently through my woods, Or tread here not at all. Gentle seeds lie rooted here, Along twisted oaks of the past. Your passing through may cause, I fear, More damage than its cost. Yesterday Man was here With chainsaw, lathe and axe He felled a mighty oak like so And vanished without a tear. Years of labour, love and rain Destroyed in a single blow. The loss of years' of joy and trust Can you name an equal pain? Now I tend ferns, hardy and light That nothing can uproot After the wildest stormy fight They'll spring up underfoot. Yet oaks are my woods' delight Standing tall and firm and wise Bearing the scars of stormy years With nary a single reprise. So tread softly in my woods, if you will, Or tread here not at all. My oaks are watching, scared and still, And tremble at your footfall.