It’s sundown in the forest

The earth beholds her day

Greets the night in fading light

No illusions to betray


In the sacred hour

When nature speaks no lies

Beside the fire we hear her choir

Beneath the ember skies


‘Do our roots no longer nourish them’

Said the forest to the tree

‘Do their hands no longer touch the sky

Do eyes no longer see?’


‘Do our waters no longer whisper’

Said the river to the stream

‘Do their ears no longer hear the wind

Do minds no longer dream?’


‘My children no longer listen’

Said the earth to the sky

As moonbeams pondered lightly

Adrift in hue and cry


But from the earth our love was born

She teaches us to learn

And to the earth until we mourn

Our love it will return


There’s peace in the woods in the valley of dusk

Of evergreen breeze the scent of divine

The forest embraces the solace of night

As moonlight she waits to cast her shine


Always it behooves us

To remember once again

The wisdom in the silence

Our friend the autumn rain


In the sheltered forest of emerald shade

The trees are dancing, sharing the sun

Embraced by daylight, which soon will fade

In the sheltered forest, together as one


The stars shone like faraway eyes

Caressing the night her eternal gaze

Summer’s retreat is autumn’s rise

The yearning wisdom of future days


Days of giving the garden that feeds

Sacred is the rising dawn

New ears to hear new eyes to see

This yearning wisdom of autumn’s song


He loved the woods.

Far away from the cubicle, that multi-walled conformity machine, marooned within the lower decks of the information factory, the silence of the woods beckoned.

The green and blue embrace of the day helped purge the frenzy of digital decay.

It won’t be long before our brains are forever wired to the internet, he thought.  There will be no escape.  Close your eyes and all you’ll be permitted to see and imagine will be online shopping, slaves to the selfish bourgeois.

It will be the law.

But not in the woods.  Here in the woods it was different.  There were no traffic jams in the woods.  No crowded subways full of people casting zombie gazes, staring holes through each other like they didn’t exist.  No suits, no ties, no shiny abyss.

Just the company of simple things.

The sun was hot but felt good on his face, as the warm breeze waltzed its way through the fragrant evergreens, back and forth, back and forth, beneath the bluest of skies.

As ancient stones glowed in the daylight descending, it was time to transcend into the sacred transcending.  Blue gently turned to black as he lit the fire and breathed the night air.  And sitting in the calm of the moment, he surrendered to the woods, and the woods answered him in kind, granting those elusive gifts, self-awareness and peace of mind.

We should all love the woods.