She stepped into the meadows,
saw it huddles under a tree.
The bower was protecting it,
quite simply as she could see.
A little while later she heard it whimper,
the look of hunger clearly etched upon its face.
It looked towards the treetop with pleading eyes,
when a gush of wind came towards the tree and whispered.
The trees leaves rattled,
and it looked a bit battered.
It gently dropped a berry,
and innocently simpered.
She marveled at the scene,
amazed how the tree took care of it.
Thought about how nature nurtures,
and how the relationship
between the living and nature is tender and closely knit.
