In the great perilous forest fire,
Burned wood and grass in wild,
I saw a tiny ant that searching home.
Chick, an Owl, a sparrow, and hood,
Deer, a Bear, hopping Barb,
Searching its siblings, mother, and child.
A small fish in a profound pond,
giggling, snarking at all those beast,
Lays its egg down deep low,
Where's no fire and there's no light,
Scared but safe and confined but great.
Like a third person, I saw all those things,
Not the suffering but the pride,
Confused, surprised then I realised,
Life has its way of making live.
