The Panda's Time

In bamboo groves where shadows play,

A gentle giant roams today,

With fur as soft as whispered dreams,

The panda wakes, or so it seems.

Once plentiful in forests wide,

Now dwindling, they must bide their time,

In patches small, their homes confined,

A silent plea, a fate entwined.

With eyes like pools of ancient lore,

They munch on greens, yet crave for more,

Each tender shoot, a precious meal,

But loss of land, they cannot heal.

The rivers flow, the seasons change,

Yet humans carve and rearrange.