In the heart of the forest where shadows play,
Stand the ancient sentinels, guardians of day,
Whispering secrets of time long past,
Their branches like arms in a gentle cast.

The Oak, a monarch with a crown of gold,
Stories of wisdom in its rings unfold,
Rooted deep in the soil, steadfast and wise,
A testament to life beneath open skies.

The Sakura, a fleeting dance of pink and white,
Petals cascading, a delicate flight,
A symbol of beauty, both brief and sweet,
Where moments of joy and sorrow meet.

The Baobab, with its trunk so wide,
A life-giving force in the desert’s stride,
Holding water and tales of survival,
A timeless marvel of nature’s revival.