Forest Walk

I love walking through the woods
On a spring morning,
Alone, naked
Under a dress, exploring

The footpath
Straggles onward into
The mystery of the
Primeval forest

There's the smell of 
Damp leaves,
Of wombats, sleep,
Slow air, infinity

I can see
All the dark places where
The sun has not yet reached, where
A yellow flower is creeping from
Its bud, where ant-trails ride across soil,
Like hum-coloured taxis, and
Giant trunks covered in rich lichen finery

Farther along, I come to the widening track
Where gleams of dawn
Breaking through the stirring canopy
Are at quiet play, where
I stand scintillating in their splendour,
Where trees speak the tongue
Of bare skin on bedclothes

I sit down on a luxuriant heap of moss
In a gentle dell, with a brook
Running over pebbles,
Brown, sparkling sand

I watch a low-bending branch
Tease the current into cheery eddies;
I hear the babble whisper tales
From the thicket's heart

Somewhere, a bird prattles on
About last night's rain;
Closer, a spider is
Weaving a wedding veil

As my attention draws near and out
In the bosom of this primitive world
It seems possible to trust in life, and
Live simply on this earth

5 thoughts on “Forest Walk

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