In the heart of the ancient forest, she lies,
A silent guardian, with wisdom in her eyes.
Her whispers carried on the breeze so light,
Wika’s spirit dances in the moonlit night.

Beneath the canopy, where shadows play,
Her stories echo through the break of day.
With every leaf and every gentle sigh,
She tells of eras gone and dreams that fly.

Her roots entwined with secrets of the earth,
A testament to life, to death, to birth.
In her presence, time itself does slow,
Wika’s song, a serenade we come to know.

As stars above paint tales in silver hue,
She weaves a tapestry of old and new.
In Wika’s realm, where nature’s heart does beat,
We find a peace, a sanctuary sweet.