There is a path through the woods,
Which winds and twists a course,
Through its’ bold coniferous steeples,
Rising from their source:
The earth and its’ wood-spirits,
They call out from the deep.
Why is it those voices seep through me,
And stir my soul to weep?
What words have I to write-out,
Of how lovely and rich?
The forests are, to those who can hear,
In the ‘unheard’ pitch.
Of light fairy fantasies.
Flowing brooks and rivers.
Of high, ancient trunks as wise as Gods;
And time, which delivers….
A carefree hum on the breeze.
Hum: to the flow of life…
And death, where spirits dwell lost in dance;
Where I, and my life,
May drift into their trance…
On a path through the woods.
K. Aldaya, 5/27/14
Picture: Artist Unknown; Originally from Crazy-Frankenstein.com; http://www.jogjis.com/stock/summer-forest-wallpapers.jpg