While standing near the forest grove, And all around the movement strove.
As the wind blew strong in my face,
I felt no motion out of place.
The birds they sang and took their flight,
And flew above, in the sky so bright.
They sang a song so mysterious to me,
Which seemed to say that they were free?
The sights and sounds were wild,
And every movement was quiet for a while.
A Squirrel moved quickly in the leaves,
And a bird flew silently in the breeze.
A falling acorn from an old Oak Tree,
Caused everything to stop and see,
To discern which way to turn.
And then as cautious as could be,
To watch, for more activity.
All the motion of the silent woods,
Makes me to listen to the forest grove,
And all around the movement strove.
by David Gilpatric