Poet of the Forest
The secrets inside the forest,
the voices of the night,
the gnomes and the sprites,
the mythical, the authentic,
the language of the owls, the lakes,
the darkness inside the trees,
the breathing corridors,
the passing flowers into wood,
the history of the ages
yet a flash of time,
a moment of reflection
of the color of the seasons,
of the busy air
dancing through the leaves,
speaking in music and verse,
voices among the quiet glens,
echoes of the soothing zephyrs,
the heroines of the frigid air
from the nights of bitter dreams,
tears of the forgotten flowers,
poetry of the sweet and bitter,
the busyness of the nocturnal air,
the sounds of silence,
the haunting beauty of the dark,
the phantoms in the midst,
the assembly of the spirits,
the thrill of the unknown,
the beautiful danger
in the shadows,
the words that fall off the trees,
that float through the poetic air,
that flood the heart and soul,
ride along the spine,
rouse the sleeping thoughts,
and come out with blazing torches
lighting up the dark chasms
of the mind to flow in
the currents if prose,
the poet of the forest.
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