Growing a Forest

Trucks of logs, boxes of honey, baskets of herbs,
Luscious pelts, ashtrays of hoof and horn.
Supply’s grown a bit slow these days,
The tiger-skin carpet’s looking moth-eaten and worn.
“Let’s grow the forest back, it’s easy enough,
Planting a few seeds, watering them, how hard can it be?
Give it a few years to bounce back, that’s all,
Then we’ll get fur and timber again, you’ll see!”

So said the traders and rolled off down the concrete road
To the straggling groves that had once been
A mighty forest stretching hundreds of acres.
Not even a single rabbit could be seen...
The forest screamed of desolation and destruction.
The traders rubbed their hands in glee,
“Lovely place to start a new factory,” they said.
After about an hour someone remembered they had to plant a tree.
Someone planted an acorn, (it used to be a rainforest!)
Poured a few drops of water, and waited.
A decade and a forest-department later,
Reports came that something had finally happened.

A few thin branches had sprouted from a thinner sapling,
The previous trees had grown a bit greener.
After due consultation, the government decided to concede
That in this bout of man and Nature, she was the winner.
They rolled off, full of plans to ‘utilise’ this land.
A dry, mocking laugh was heard from the bushes.
“I told them when they were felling the first tree,
Told them not to turn my soil into desert sand.
I told them not to destroy this lovely abode of mine...
But they would not listen, would not heed
My words, and now, now they’ll die like the plants,
A slow rotting death crying for things they need.”