Song of the Wild

Crouched in the hushed trembling, Of leaf and feathered fray, Where the wild creatures meet the hush, I hear them play beneath the willow sway.

To my heart, they seem eternal, Their laughter spills soft as mist, Tracing shadows in the fading sun, Life intertwined through the sunlit twist.

Songs rise like the fragrance of blossoms, Borne on the wind’s gentle sigh, Each note a thread in this wild weaving, Upon earth’s pale canvas under the sky.

• Rainer Maria Rilke