Breakage in canopies overhead,
spark the life far down below.
Reaching tendrils slowly reach,
the life of them to grow.
an antediluvian race now ensues,
a competitive reign to reach the top;
slowly now they reach their hold,
while some take use of cop.
Yellow-red rug covers fragile means,
and slowly parts to witness strife.
By sunlight vines do follow,
the only direction towards life.
Bark makes home to slither present,
as motivation withers low;
verdant roof choose to halt,
nature in its instinctual flow.
Sunlight ensnare the creepers in want,
to compete against the climb,
they push against the mighty draft,
to have a taste of life’s sublime.
Heavy burdens drag some lower,
while limber threads make carry on,
ferns push out instead of up,
before you know, the vines had gone.
The canopy has closed unto forever more,
down below all else must manage.
Far above an absconding tendril reach,
for it has survived an ancient breach.