They can get inside you, but you don't want them there. You might live inside one and completely unaware. A sign of life if in the ocean and many rise with air in motion.

In forest's realm where whispers sway, a wooden limb in sun's warm play. Connects the sky to roots below, where creatures dwell and breezes flow.

Soft as a whisper, pale as peace, I carry no blade, yet wars may cease. I fly with a message, ancient and true, From floods to vows, I’m known to you.

I can be a living thing or completely false I’m born outside, but known to sit within walls At my feet is where your wishes lie stocked Once I’ve expired, I lay on the sidewalk

I am born from wholeness, yet I am never complete. I wear a silver smile but hide the rest of my face. I cut without a blade and cradle the night in my curve. I am not a circle, though I come from one. I am not empty, though I seem to be missing.