A Presence In the Forest
Somewhere in an old-growth forest,
a woman smoothly moves amidst
shadows of the pines and hardwoods.
Her mossy gown is verdant green,
her hair twinkles with mica and
her soul, deep as a midnight sky,
with remote star clusters beaming.
She tends the ruins of an ancient inn
and a bed of ferns and roses.
Many a nomad, passing through,
is revived by her grace and goodness.
Though we can't lay hands on her,
she wanders free within our grasp,
For the ancient inn beguiles us still
in the labyrinths of our minds.
Copyright © Carol Mays | Year Posted 2015
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