Whispers in the Woods
Saturday, August 2nd, 2008They were born onto jaded earth;
Viewed as tragic root,
Within mute drift of winter’s robes;
Set amidst trees in somber rows,
Casting their gaunt shadow slant.
Stigma evolved from silent seed,
Varied from spring hues ;
By tones of lydian wisdom.
Well beyond the years of being;
Until greenness feared,
A shade of sensitive blue.
They blossomed in pastures still cold-
Growth without a sound,
With quiet veins in constant swirl…
Questioning frantic pace of world…
Departing in rush from hushed ground.
Across the dearth of founded paths,
Soft sorrow intrudes.
Where bark bleeds for hearts in sopor,
Amidst the shallow breath of summer.
…Souls unable to appreciate,
the soothing veils of boreal solitude.
pink-ai
