The Deep Lullaby of the Sap

Beneath the earth’s mantle, dense and patient,
where time is a whisper, a silent waiting,
the roots weave a plot that is so silente,
each fiber a vein, secret and cunning.
You don’t see their working, you don’t feel the breath,
yet the whole world rests upon their soft sigh.

It is a deep lullaby, the sap that ascends,
an ancient hymn woven in the dark profound,
a concert of fibers that never harms,
but nourishes every leaf, every fruit around.
A hidden rhythm, pulsating through the wood,
the architect of green, a secret understood.

Every branch that dances, every flower that blooms,
carries the echo of this low vibration,
the promise of life that the earth unseals,
in the silence only fibers know how to embrace.
A subtle dance of hunger and thirst,
the beating heart of joys kept immersed.