A poem concerning the rhythm of the forest and all the denizens therein. |
A quiet evening beings with the sun setting in the west, the clouds changing from silver to the hues of red, purple, blue, and golden orange. The shadows extend their hands to the land growing into the pervasive dark, a thoughtful silence is interrupted by the songs of crickets and nightlarks. While the blackness grows, a new light appears to cheer the nighttime sky, it is the moon, her aged face looks and smiles at the glowing firefly Dancing across its shimmering surface, ripples flee from the rage of water falling from the hill's crown; the spirit of the waterfall coming down. The pounding droning of the water accompanies the symphony of the forest, from trees innumerous the living instruments play and sing their teeming chorus. The owls hoot while silently gliding, their heads turning, listening while flying, The wolves howl heavenwards, to the white gem in hope the moon will favor them. With endless romance and undying love the frogs croak graciously in the mud, Yet most life never hears their song... with the comfort of sleep holding on. Snatch! the bat has grabbed his dinner, flying blindly with his meal he hears the sounds of this summer night in its glory, yet greater dark concealed lies in the gloom of the bats' cave. The community of bats hold vigil for those who left that night to provide for those they would fill. The snake slithers through the pitch black that permeates the living floor of the bats... The scorpions sting hangs above his head threatening all that would approach his bed. Without sight while decked in mail the blind fish fly in hidden streams flowing inside the cave's bowels, past the end of the spider's trail. But lo! piercing the inky air a single beam illuminates a stair forgotten by all save nature's mind the ledges climb skyward in glowing incline. Life stirs gradually while the moons sets to her bed where she had slept the day before and will sleep again while a cloud rises from the ground's wet. Rising slowly like a golden balloon the sun rises, dispelling all gloom life awakens again for the creatures of day as the night ends to a summer day. |