In these woods
where light retreats and shadows move
along commonly and playfully
I found a young boy.

He stood by a small sluggish stream, striking insensibly at the stones with a childish grin
He than ran noisily, not minding his heavy feet
Crushing and crumbling, the dried dead leaves.

In these woods
where a breeze questions trees on where it's to go
and how it's to get there
I am an adolescent male

I had a hand placed on the bark of a tree
as I kept close my eyes
Listening intently to the words of nature
before I release  my needed independent sigh.

In these Woods
Where the oak observes what's below with wisdom
coursing through it's limbs
I saw an elderly man.

He sat on a rock ignoring the discomfort he felt. Laughing to himself he shook his head and rose. A breath he took letting the aromas of circulate inside his soul. He shook his head once more before exiting the woods.