Notes About The Poem
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Amber Forest Sentinel
in the mist wood morning,
he rises
on his slender branch~
a small furry silhouette
against descending gold.
the leaves know him,
rustling his name
in quiet spirals;
the fog parts
just enough
to crown his tail
with pale light.
he is keeper
of the in-between places~
where amber meets shadow,
where breath becomes breeze,
where time pauses
long enough
for magic
to remember itself.
his eyes, bright as dew,
read the woodland’s secrets:
which tree dreams of summer,
which root hums with old stories,
which path is safe
for wandering hearts.
one twitch of whisker,
one soft lift of paw,
and the forest listens~
every branch,
every drifting leaf,
every creature
waiting for his signal
to begin the day.
he is small,
yes~
but the mist knows
power isn’t measured
in size,
only in presence.
and in this suspended autumn,
he stands
as guardian of the golden quiet,
the one who keeps watch
over forest dreams.
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