The canopy weeps, a perpetual sigh
A misty veil that shrouds the sky
The forest floor, a damp and mossy throne
A world of green, where shadows roam and moan
The trees, like sentinels of old
Standing guard, their vigil, a story untold
The rain\'s rhythmic beat, a constant drum
A symphony that echoes, never done
In the emerald world, I find my nest
A place to hide, where fears are less
The scent of wet earth, a primal call
A reminder of the wild and all that\'s small
The rainforest\'s power, a humbling force
A feeling of being small, yet connected to the source
A world of beauty, where life and death entwine
A dance of contrasts, where I find my rhyme