The Future of our Forests

"Swish, swish", sings the vast forest,                                                         
Lungs of our earth, there's an abundant amount.                                 
Birds in the canopy sing their sophisticated choir, "chirp, chirp, chirp",   
Below, trucks and chainsaws roar their deathsong.

Add another 100 years, where the lands are barren,                                 
Children ask their grandparents "What did the land look like?"       
The elders stroke their beards and smoke their pipes,                         
And ponder where the trees have gone when the chainsaws came.

The future of these centennial beauties lie in our hands,                       
An eternal responsibility we have to acknowledge.                                 
Unless you want the red gums and wattles                                    
To disappear forever like shooting stars in the sky.