Whispers of the Wild In the hush of the forest,
everything speaks —
the rustle of leaves,
the soft footfalls of fox,
whispers of the wild,
ancient and wise.

I kneel on the moss,
turning earth between my fingers
and hear the heartbeat of the land,
echoes of a timeless spirit,
a communion beneath the boughs.

Here, amongst mushrooms and ferns,
I am reminded of this cycle —
fading, breathing, becoming,
all shaped by the landscapes kiss.

• Ruth Padel