Leaving the path
I walk into the woods.
Sit on a fallen branch
within a circle of
pine trees, twigs, sticks,
rotting wood,
pine needles and
fallen leaves,
layer upon layer,
composted.
A decay that
nourishes these
silent giants
whose spongy
trunks soar to
reach the light
high above.
There is shelter
from the wind,
but beneath
the evergreen canopy,
the silence is total,
like death, yet
it calls me
to listen,
to strive
for the
light.
