The shimmering white and silver mists arise,
cloaking all in its soft ghostly shadows...
Purple crags, lavender shaded boulders near,
towering majestic and strong above the meadows...
*
Bracken coarse and dewy lies beneath my feet,
holding the breath of night fairies within it...
In amongst the birch and ash I spy them hiding,
`til again the dark, when they can freely flit...
*
Wandering on, soon face to face with the giants,
dwarfed am I, seeing them stretch into the sky...
Running my hands along their deep grooved bark,
ancient souls, hidden within them, I hear cry...
*
Around us the mists swirl, feeding them, for life,
feeding me so deep in my heart, my soul, my mind...
All of us needing the Mother of Nature to survive,
somehow the will within us, always we shall find...
*
Placing my all too lacking arms around the nearest,
secretly I whisper for the ears within to hear...
"We of like hearts, will do our very best for thee,
seeing you're not disturbed, hold faith, try not to fear"...
*
Strange though it may be, but a small smile I feel,
spread slowly across the gnarled surface beside me...
Sighing, walking away, magic wishes abundant within,
survival for us all, depends on letting them be...
*
Feel the mists, hear the cries coming from within,
gaze upon the wonders we have been given to hold...
Hurt not the future of mankind with a greedy heart,
leave them at peace for all time, the ones so old...
*

Jadie Rose

Copyright©1998 Jadie Rose
All Rights Reserved
No reproduction of this material is allowed without written permission from the author

"The Memory of Trees"
 

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