This forests orchestra serves me well
As I lay on this stump, feeling like hell.
The birds, they chirp, the woods rustle,
My spirits rise, as the beauty nestles.
A cardinal screams at my shitty mood
Which lifts discovering it really cries for food.
I fall to my knees and join its hunt underground
A worm’s home, so obviously worms must be found.
Time slides by, I find myself dirty and laughing
And realize like my problems, we are all nothing
But hungry birds searching for worms,
Who really, as long as our beak is firm
Can take to the sky,
Close our eyes and fly.
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