Forest's Path
Into slithered path of forest green
my imprints mark a search for peace,
as bushes hide like shades unseen
where vines’ fragrance holds its release.
Drained, I see life through a flower
struggling to curl among meshed weeds,
these limbs falling on ash of hours
like old willows bound to concede.
Enduring climbs upon a hilltop
the blaze of night in gold appears;
so far the wrens, too near I drop
till leaf of hope breaks, as morn nears.
Dusk now closes its drowsy eyes,
as forest still grants what is mine
breathless from new mist, I arise.
while soles run here in thoughts divine
Mau 2018 Standard Contest of Brian Strand
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2014
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