The Forest

The forest is on fire,

But I’m standing my ground.

My roots are planted firmly in it,

Never letting me down.

Oh, it’s coming for me now I know,

And yes, it should be time to go,

but I’m not moving. No, I’m not moving

This ground is mine, there will be time

For more falls with fruit that fell

To spread and share the wealth around.

More winters to sleep and dream of spring,

When they’ll grow and bloom for the summer,

And stand their ground when the time comes

For them too, to stand against fire.