Adapt

In the quiet glade where reeds sigh low,
A willow bends, its branches sway,
Learning how to dance with gusts that blow,
It does not break, it finds its way.

The city fox, with keen, sharp eyes,
Prowls beneath neon street‑lamp glare,
Scavenges scraps where humans lie,
Its wild heart learns to thrive there.

A crab on shore, its shell a shield,
Waits for tide to turn and swell,
When water rushes, it will yield,
Then crawl anew where foams compel.

So we, too, must learn to flex and fold,
To shift our thoughts like shifting sand,
To wear new skins, brave, bright, and bold—
Adapt, and walk upon this changing land.