JOSE GERVIC LABE, JR.
If Trees Are Gone
IF TREES ARE GONE

What goodness a tree would bring?
Amidst the spring, the birds will sing.
Would you dare not listen to their sweet serenade?
As you lay down beneath the shade.

Where do they rest their wing so restless?
Where do robins build their nests?
Who would catch those pelting rain?
To where they perch, oh weary cranes?

When we feel hungry, who give us food?
On rainy days, the soil will erode.
Didn't you hear our mother nature's uttered cry?
"You will suffer! You will die!"

Amidst the sun's scorching heat,
On our skin, it ceaselessly beat.
Can you endure? Can you still bear?
That mighty ball of burning flare?

If one is tired of tilling fields,
If none a tree, what does he yield?
No more shadows, not a shade.
He can't even hone his spade.

Where do we go? Where will we seek?
We would live our lives in bleak.
What would we become? What will be done?
If all our trees are gone.
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