We can’t see the woods for the trees

We can’t see the woods for the trees

In the heart of the woods,

we stand, bodies entwined

with ancient trees.

With flutes in hand,

we let the music flow,

notes dancing softly

on the gentle breeze.

Our forms rise like trunks,

strong and deep,

branches extend where

arms reach high.

The melodies calm the world,

as chaos slips by.

Yet amidst the rhythm

of life’s swirling hues,

we often forget to see

what’s close and near—

caught in the thicket,

lost in the maze,

we can’t see the wood

for the trees, my dear.

Yet here in this grove,

our spirits align.

Winds carry whispers

of what could be.

In the echo of flute

and rustling leaves,

we find harmony,

we find unity.

With each breath of song,

the world holds still.

Nature listens,

hearts begin to sway.

Together we blend,

like roots underground—

in this moment,

let’s dance and play.

Though the world may blur,

hidden from view,

our music calms storms,

steady and true.

We may not see all

that surrounds us,

but through our song,

the woods come alive this day.