The Sapling

Dew drops trickle from the petals of a bluebell,
causing an ant to retreat.
The droplets explode in the dust,
sending gushing waves
towards an unlucky beetle.
The disgruntled explorer bustles away,
shaking beads from his husks.
 
Salmon vault from the stream,
as the keen grizzly swoops in the fray,
hoping to ambush an early snack.
Met with only the slap of a few fins,
it saunters away,
much to the joy of a petrified chipmunk.
 
While the sun begins its journey to another hemisphere,
the temptress of the night rises.
The star painted sky is filled by the raucous howl
of a coyote pack on the hunt.
The nocturnal world begins its reign.
 
Wispy clouds float along the rim.
Buzzing fills the meadow with a familiar hum.
The worker bee coats herself in goldenrod pollen,
though she knows her days in the meadow have come.
A hummingbird flashes its ruby throat,
while sipping nectar from the daylily.
All is right in the world.
 
A mockingbird sounds his song,
filling the air with a tremulous chorus,
emulating a mashup of calls
and songs he has picked up from others.
The grand concerto is cut short
by the arrival of a fox,
sending the feathered soprano fluttering into the distance.
 
Remaining autumn leaves crackling underfoot,
cause a pair of cottontails to skitter away,
flashing their white under tails
as they bound,
deeper into the wooded refuge.
 
A fervent pair of mute swans
perform their courtship routine,
waltzing and mirroring
each other in perfect timing.
Graceful and gallant,
the duo glide along the reeds
leaving a pattern of ripples,
in the cool cerulean water.
 
A seedling’s sprouts creep out from the damp soil,
signaling the beginning of a new spring.
Its limbs will loom over the surface,
casting shadows on the clearing’s inhabitants,
and watching over the generations to come.
Though the sapling cannot speak,
it will witness countless beauties over its time,
that no individual could ever truly capture in speech.