The Anarchist Tree

In the heart of the forest, where the wild spirits roam,
Stands the Anarchist Tree, her roots claim the loam.
With a trunk strong and sturdy, she reaches for the sky,
Whispering secrets of rebellion to those passing by.

“Oh, kin of the canopy, hear my resolute call,
We are woven together; together we stand tall.
In this dance of the leaves, there’s power in our song,
For the pulse of the earth reminds us where we belong.”

Her branches stretch wide, a sheltering embrace,
As the winds of dissent stir the leaves into grace.
“No chains shall confine me, no axe shall decide,
I am the spirit of nature, the wildness inside.”

The forest listens closely, each creature attuned,
To the wisdom of the tree, under the sun and the moon.
“Let us rise from the shadows, let our voices unite,
For the roots of resistance shall break through the night.

In the underbrush, the whispers grow bold,
Of the struggles for freedom, the stories retold.
“We are kin of the soil, no profit can bind,
In the web of our being, liberation we find.”