Awakening Woods

Between the trees, there’s a hush, a stillness nested beneath the leaves, as life pulses on, cards of whimsy shuffle in the breeze.

Awakening woods speak softly, telling tales of creatures past, within their arms, time flows freely, a memory hung upon each branch.

The underbrush hums with wisdom, where wildflowers weave their tale, ets of life connect us deep, where feet may tread without fail.

These woods, a refuge for the dreamers, a cradle for all that will be; a reminder we all belong, wild and free, lost and found, a part of the spinning earth, in its embrace.

• Diane di Prima