A composition on the question "What does it mean to be a Sentinel?"

A path leads on before me,
Where it goes I cannot see,
But always in my forethought
A green forest there shall be.

The forest brings me freedom,
With nature on my side.
The trees above, my refuge:
'Tis here my guild resides.

To harvest herbs and change my form
Are gifts I may receive,
But along with gracious privilege
Comes responsibility.

My duty to the forests
Demands a larger part:
Protecting nature's gift for all,
Is foremost in my heart.

No matter where you find me,
Roaming water, land or sky,
Proud and independent,
A Sentinel am I.

Penned by my hand on the 16th of Mayan, in the year 330 AF.