Woven in the Sun

 

Simple are the quiet moments

Woven in the sun

When the forest rests, stars awake

And the rivers softly run

 

Simple are these sacred moments

When the daylight is done

This tapestry of natures’ song

Woven in the sun

 

Into the Night

 

All is quiet on whisper lake

As moonbeams rise in fading light

Between the shadows spirits awake

Upon the journey into the night

 

Whisper Creek

 

Along the shores of whisper creek

Of waters ancient wistful deep

Beneath the trees as nature sleeps

Lives the silence that softly speaks

 

The Birds Still Sing

 

So somber and still the air we now breathe

Forgotten the solace of our bewildered spring

But while darkness besets as together we grieve

The sun it will rise and the birds still sing

 

By the River

 

The wandering spirits of water and stone

Flow through the forest of sacred unknown

Bound to her wisdom, scattered and sown

These wandering spirits of water and stone

 

Nature’s Reflection

 

The trees they gather to honor their own

With blue skies, bird song, water and stone

While the mighty have fallen, the many have grown

Reflections of nature, her reverence is sown

 

A Day in the Woods

 

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.

 

 

The Sheltered Forest

 

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

 

Night Song

 

The forest fades to silence

As the daylight she clings

And whispers her song into the night

When silence gently sings

 

Garden of Wisdom

 

Can we listen to the waters

Hear the woodlands speak

Open our eyes to the skies

See our follies and deceits

 

Can we learn from the stars

Ever straining out of reach

Like the sharp edges of truth

Always hurt, before they teach

 

Can we listen to the sounds of wisdom

The wind through the trees

Open our eyes to the skies

Begin again to see