In the darkened forest of
Those below and those above,
Followed I am through the dead and rustling leaves.
Summer sun or autumn light?
All but forgotten where I might
Have awoken in the midst of those lost trees.
My only clue is the warm
Of the breeze that around me swarms.
Here something whispers: “Winter is not far.”.
There’s a break in the canopy
That offers no new sight to see,
Only the grey that stretches on and on and on.
My steps carry me no farther
The wind carries words from afar, her
Messages are seldom those of comfort, much less of wisdom.
Raindrops and a cold now herald
The days end; my easy path turned feral.
Just how cold and wet remains for me to be seen.
No shelter, no end, no rest,
I wander on, and do my best,
To stay on a straight path, and not become more lost.
With daylight now expired
I sit, my eyes so tired,
And hope when I awaken that the world will be a different place.
I awake without opening my eyes
I’ll not do so voluntarily, something else must pry,
For the rustling of leaves tells me something I ought not to hear.
Standing up and pushing on,
I tread paths where nothing belongs,
And an echo of a whisper repeats: “Winter is not far.”
Posted in From the shadows
Tagged awake, dark, echo, eye, forest, leaf, leaves, path, poem, poetry, rest, tree, whisper, winter
Wind from another time and place.
Blowing in, revealing a different face.
One face to another that face did say:
Among the autumn leaves, come to play.
A sunset in fall before the winter snow.
One last embrace before the fading of hearts glow.
Far beyond springtime and those carefree days past,
Even summer had mourned and into shadows cast,
Any semblance, any thought that bore
Resemblance to a memory that one could not ignore.
Now here in autumn, waiting for the snow,
Praying winter, its face, it won’t forget to show.
Posted in Nature
Tagged autumn, day, face, Fall, glow, heart, leaves, poetry, season, shadow, snow, summer, sunset, wind, winter
A day in the trees,
Forgetting troubles below.
Far ahead she can see.
Vision unobstructed so,
One might wonder why,
Why would she ever come down?
Trees against a tempting sky,
Their branches make it impossible to frown.
Every comfort she could need there;
One blissful nap among the leaves.
Those troubles below need her care
In her those troubled believe.
She is not her own,
She is needed elsewhere.
The trees are not her home,
But she will seek them when time will spare.