The settled forest
tanks rolling in the distance
the destructive sounds
Birds take flight, and creatures flee
The trees don’t flinch as they die
Tag: forest
Forest Music
drums from the forest
Nature’s bass is low and deep
ancient vibrations
The humans from long ago
Their spirits fill the forest
Forest Night
The forest is near
a deepening of onyx
The moonlit shadows
a vision of the wild sea
The house lights are my lighthouse
Magical Ancestor
A calling to walk in the forest.
Hoping to find something that keeps calling back to the same wilted tree.
Taking more time now that the adults do not have the power to intervene.
Under moss and vines lay the inscription of her great-grandmother’s name – The Progenitor of Magic.
Forest Rhythm
whispers of the trees
with every beat of the drum
gooseflesh on our skin
we dance around the bonfire
with the rhythm of the spirits
The Melodies
They pierce the silence
with the drums, they play
around the burning pyre
They sing a song to
give thanks to the forest
as the embers move
The drums, the song,
and the embers turning
into dancing fireflies
They create melodies
to move the forest
and awaken the spirits
The Ebony Forest
The trees loom softly, wise, silent, judging.
The ground sounds under hollow footsteps.
The way is long, and the night moves in
until only the moonlight lights the way.
Shadows of many unknowns deepen,
yet fear does not live in this soft place.
The trees know someone walks among them,
they live and understand, so I talk as I walk.
Talking to the trees on the way to her,
telling them all of my secrets in hope.
The trees move as if my story is enough
to convince them that I may pass through
the forest and find her alive or dead.
I do not care. I must find her and tell her
I did my best;
that this world is wicked and cruel, yet here
she is safe from harm.
The trees know the truth of my heart, her heart;
they wait for the final sigh, then the emotions.
I crumble. She is dead.
The forest moves within me in ways I never knew;
I am home with her. She and I will go to that place.
Sea Piano
Dancing fingers move above the places
where
energy meets the many sounds of the sea.
Touching the places that make the sea
come alive through vibrations and sounds.
Dancing fingers make the sea rush
into the piano as the shore shifts.
Slowly, the sounds of the winter sea shift
the room and the forest begins to sound.
Dancing fingers move the sea to the shore,
to show us the forest, the snow, the silence.
Amateur Pagans
Frolicking in the forest,
for today is all we have to live.
Deep nature chanting,
spirits of the trees fall as leaves.
An owl hoots laughter,
the ladies choose no offences.
Feelings of the forest,
they leave, and all that remains
are our unkempt buns.
Chalice
A chalice full of forest air
beneath Petrichor scents
Waiting for the right time
listening for what comes
Beating the forest drums
vibrations and old energy
Waking the forest dead
calling the trees, animals
One holds the chalice high
another call to the wolves
Visions of the old dead
sap runs down the trees
C & K 