ONE day,

a log
said to the bog,

"you're all mud
and you ever survive,
i am all wood
but i always die."

the bog spoke,
after a long sigh,
"it is transformation,
which you deny.

I turn into nothing but soil,
when it is too hard to toil.
the sun smokes up all water,
i become a happy crater.

then comes by, the rain,
fills my bowl once again.
i see wild weeds,
some dormant seeds.
water lilies, papyrus, mangroves,
are all that come to me and grow.
i laugh with them, they sing with me,
castaway afar, but glad are we.
together we live and fear not fate,
that is how i live ahead!"