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.
Branches reach for the sky
Divided and angry
Naked of their adornments of summer
They plead their case to the clouds.
Moods separate blue and grey
War of the fronts
Moving in with force
And the tree stands tall
Still reaching for the air
Asking for mercy.
The storm will come swiftly
Rain, hail and snow
Blowing in sideways
Twigs will be broken
Left on the ground to lay in wait
For springs arrival
Of raking and cleaning
The future blooms will peer out sweetly
Leaving the devastation
Far behind in the memory.
Cold wind blows in forests high
As mist gathers in corners
And the naked trees play
October nights spent lost in shadow
I hear them sway
Moving in the moment
Of those who silently witness
This beguiling dance.
The witch who casts her spells may say
That this is only natures way
Of freedom, folly and the truth
Naked in the gathering of their ilk.
Before the morning light casts
It’s rays and shows their truth,
Once leaves have gone
And summers spent,
Where no one sees the play unfold
But what a sight I did behold.
He bowed a branch to touch my face
And others in a jealous rage
Did snap back and forth their frenzied whips,
Cutting the air
With a crack of thunder they stopped,
Almost as if afraid
The giant before me,
The boldest tree
I curtsied back and held out a hand
To hold the hardened strength
To be swept up in the natures dance,
He softly moved
His twig like branches
Softly touching my flowing hair,
Then set me free and standing there,
The dance complete
The motion stopped
The calm before storm
And covered in mist stood lingering alone
With a bouquet of leaves
I walked away
Wondering if to return some day
To moon mist madness
The forest ballet.