The Web of Life

In ancient stone, fungi grow,
Networked threads, a secret show,
Breaking down decay, they stand,
Recycling worlds, hand in hand.

The forest floor, a tapestry so fine,
A web of life, where threads entwine,
Rustling leaves, a chorus sweet,
A symphony, where insects meet.

The trees, like sentinels of old,
Stand guard, their stories yet untold,
Their bark, a canvas, worn and grey,
A map of seasons, come what may.

The earth's heartbeat, a gentle release,
A reminder that we're all held dear,
A tiny thread, within the weave,
Connected to the earth we breathe.