Inside the Land We Call Home

A soft rustling of a leaf calls,

As if a whisper on the wind

Has set a stick to fall.

Inside the land we call home,

Light filters through a canopy of bush,

The sunlight glistening down

In the gleam of a simple push.

Inside the land we call home,

Trees stand tall in the earth,

The roots stretching deep underground

With beauty a fraction of its worth.

Inside the land we call home,

Creatures crawl across leaf-filled ground.

An ecosystem wonderfully thriving,

Just waiting to be found

Inside the land we call home.