This Is The Family Life

poetry in progress one soul cuts through the universe come light, come darkness, the father would fend like a tiger for its other half and young cubs in the cave of existence its roar could be heard in the forest at dawn and the dead of night it is a roar of love - for its young it is a roar of fear - for its young it is a roar of the uncertainty of existence it is a roar of the courage to roar that there will always be light stealing through the foliage each and every day for the little snail to see as it moves its pad over a patch of leaves, for the mice inching its way through the floor of sprawling roots from the four feet to the footless slithering over hills and mountains the forest exhibits the toughness of existence with each tree standing tall - roots, trunks, and canopies come shine or rain - - and throws a challenge to life in the sky, on the ground, under the ground the lives below its green green crown that whine, that bark, that meow, that neigh, that howl, that croak, that moo, that hiss, that oint, that shriek, that shrill... the forest is a vast orchestra that trumpets a existence through thick and thin