Awake, the Woods

Awake, the woods, the woods!
The silent whisper of the trees
Caught in the velvet green embrace
Of summer’s end; and hear the song
The robins sing in twilight’s breeze.

The azure sky their staging bright,
With sunlight filtered through the leaves,
Soft murmurs in the foliage green
Of nature shaking free her dreams.

And every bough, like finger’s touch,
Calls forth the glistening dew of morn.
Awake, the woods! For there is mirth
In every rustle, every form!

• EJ Pratt