Forest Poem

The sunlight shines through the branches onto the leaf covered ground.
A single leaf falls down and lands in a glassy puddle, 
Sending ripples in every direction.
An old oak tree stands silently, like a wise old mountain holding many stories.
I sit under the oak tree and listen to the birds chirping, the frogs quietly croaking and the wind rustling.
I think of all that's happened and feel that I want to stay here in the forest forever.
I begin to walk deeper into the forest.
It gets colder and darker, yet calmer and calmer.
I start to notice the details.
The dew drops hanging from branches, reflecting everything around them in tiny form.
The details on one leaf, the rough feel of the bark on the tree.
It is calm.
It is creative.
It is nature.