Forests Have a Way
Linger in the forest, spirits in the trees,
listen to bough whispers
in the siren breeze,
tree bark presents like mottled skin,
leaves are their earnest lungs,
listen now the communication,
it’s already begun;
a sighing benediction fills
the moist enveloping air,
come this way through woody halls,
as amber glazes your hair,
rich tidings these scents of oak and fern,
while you chance on deer and rabbits,
bounding away near every turn.
These silent sedentary columns
have a circular endless wisdom,
as well, a lofty vital kingdom,
skyward massive and solemn.
The breeze stiffens now,
pulls down needles, twigs and seed,
how fierce the message has become,
and vibrant your shelter need.
The cunning forest plays with conflict too,
contrasts to easy dappled light,
but you’re smitten by the pelting fury,
won’t leave the encompassing sight.
Later when the storm is spent and bled,
you’re still here to ponder and listen,
you gaze at what once was a spider’s web
watching it’s bulbous rain jewels glisten.
Breathe in the damp sultry forest,
a peace returned, birds call out again,
as you wonder at an empty downed nest,
This is your church, your temple, your friend.