Amazonian walks

It is just 5 am, and the night is still on.
To the sunrise, in jungle we go stone by stone.
My companions are just 25-year-old,
Men of forests, they sturdy and brave.

Those young men were brought up by the rainforest's noise,
They were learnt to behave, so to fit in that voice.
Their machetes are sharp and their eyes - like of owls,
And their thoughts are so pure and naive.


They know ways in which different creatures behave,
They know when stir of bushes is safe or unsafe.
As the lines in the news, they can read someone's trace
That are left by the Nature's night jumble.
By the fallen trees, going through squeeze swamps,
With the light which is brought by the only small lamps,
We are looking on how life is waking and starts,
How it's watching us out in the jungle.

We were walking so silent, as leafs rustled fall,
Sensing, smelling and hearing, not breathing at all,
Amazonian mud purifies our soul,
Filling it with a dew of its freedom...

It is clay, not a dirt, and with waterfall flows
All this runs, all this laughs, all this suddenly goes...
I just wish urban growth keep away, far from those
Sparkles of natural magical kingdom.

And I ask all the Gods to take care of this place,
To preserve it from any urbanistic race,
To conceal its sacrality by spider's lace,
To conserve it, so tender and flawless,

So that dew and the lakes would sparkle here year by year,
Mammals, snakes, bugs and bees never would disappear,
And that sounds of the Life would preserve as they’ve been
In eternal enchanted rainforest.