Do you wish to hear a secret?
Put on your boots and go into the woods
Go as a child would
Running and skipping with eyes full of wonder
There you will find a certain grove of trees
And a little patch of moss in the centre
Plant your feet into the earth and
Stretch your arms up to the patch of blue
Now close your eyes and breathe
If you stand very still, very patiently
Your eight year old ears will open
And you will hear once again the murmurs of the forest
The trees are speaking
Telling the story of the deepest mystery
The rising of sap in the spring
And the origin of the colour green
Love the character and tone of this
Your poetry has reminded me of many happy times spent in the woods growing up, both near our homes and at the cottage. I almost feel like trying to write some poetry myself!
Wonderful places those woods, in winter too, with frosty whites outside and toasty fires inside.