In the stillness of a lonely grove,
with sunlight drifting; changing mode,
the comfort of it’s solitude, I depend,
it embraces me like a silent friend.
Then through the quiet, a sound is made,
a lovely sound, my solitude betrayed.
Telling me I’m not alone,
but encroaching on another’s home.
Then as I listen, from all around,
more creatures seem answer to the sound,
my grove seems to come alive,
telling me that here, many others thrive.
I’m in the midst of their lovely homes,
they seem to tell me, in various tones,
with lovely chirps, they let me know,
if I destroy their solitude, then I must go.
But if hold my silence, I could confine,
this Elysium grove would be all mine.
If reverie I desire on another day,
I will be welcomed to pass again this way.