Apart road and trail in gentle grass
a stand of aspen swell the meadow,
shielding gale and storm to pass.
Insulated peace under bough to rest,
beneath the greenery a hidden nest.
A curtain from judgment’s eye,
where the clever woodsmen waits,
as his brethren hike on bye.
Cascading to ear, the raven calls above.
And deer browse as silently as the dove.
This forgotten fortress hides
the weary from distorting turbulence.
And the sparrow, branch to twig slides,
into this sanctuary of the wood.
He pauses, alone, turning dark to good.