The woods ...

... where the snowstorm blows

......where the rain is sudden

...........where the trees have arms that span in and ****** at life

..............where the mists sprinkle and move

...................where the owl sat as a watchman as we settled beneath the stars

........................where the breeze mumbles tribal mantras

.............................where the greenery conceals a huge number of sins

................................where the animals be-companion solitary **** Sapiens

...............where the way twists up and into and over and liberates the lost


I've seen the woods…

… ..and I sit alone

… .… and the quiet is all

… and the ears hear just the leaves falling

… and the morning light comes in streams

… ..and the undergrowth scents of ages past

… ..and the creek sings a despairing song

… and the hawk leaves a shadow upon our tangled dreams

… .… and the growths pay respect to the cycle of life

… and blooms come into bud

… ..and I've felt every one of its favors… and felt its rot


I am the backwoods…

… .it inhales underneath my skin – whispering breeze

… .… it races through my veins – prospering waterway

… .… it houses the owl – isolated home

… ..it whispers to the towns – lost heritage

… ..… it develops contorted roots from the dirt of my yearning - verdant rot

… ..it discovers life inside my folds – rising sapling

… it spreads an overhang over my casing – memory's shadow

… .it mumbles to the hearkening ear – achieving bark

… I've felt the excursion inside its ignored heart … it offers elegance to the lost