Broken leaves crack like gunshot
Beneath lumbering feet searching
Through restless forests silenced
By the coming of man.
White tails move away
Clipped paces too fast it seems for eyes that see
For thoughts that seek an end
To the burning questions bred
And the hands of fate
That led him here.
Silver light flickers
As a hand held up to block the light
Entering shadows on the quest
To bring peace to the existence
Once lost here among
The hard woods and rot
And the fungus that marks decay
Turned to a pile of nothing
With the heel that kicked it away.
Clouds move in as winds come to call
The eclipse hours off
A change on its way
Where clarity will again take hold
And whisk the thoughts effortlessly away
And as the flies flicker about
Hovering like puppets,
They too will blow free with the wind,
The chorus of nature will once again rise up
To take their place,
And finish the music echoing
In this amazing fortress
Filled with the earths hypnotic grace
And tomorrow’s blessing will grab hold
As each tender step taken,
With eyes wide open to see
This peace at last
To be set free.
This moon turns the thoughts like a compost barrel, around and around and knowing that soon the great dark earth made under the sun each day will turn to itself and become all it is truly meant to be.
Beautiful image taken by my father.