The Silver Fern

In the cool shade of the forest,
A silver fern stands tall,
Its fronds reaching for the light,
A symbol of our land’s thrall.

Whispers of ancient stories,
Echo through the trees,
Of ancestors who walked these paths,
Guided by the breeze.

Each leaf a living memory,
Of our past, and our fight,
Bound to the soil of Aotearoa,
In the soft, dusky light.

• P E J M Taylor