Into the forest glen the sunlight drifts;
those determined rays go creeping.
Between branches of twisted saplings;
yearning, struggling, and weeping.
The canopy above is sparkling mesh;
tall trees ration their filtered light.
Like wood soldiers aligned in a row.
Standing guard in a hall of knights.
Only the strongest seedling succeeds;
reaching above the woodland floor.
A natural process weeds-out the weak.
The fittest thrives, producing more.