Forest of the Ancient Oak
Nightly, I wander in shadows of a recurring dream
and find myself wading through a shallow stream.
The Ancient of Oaks calls from beyond the thickets,
its gentle whispers mingling with chirping crickets.
I cannot guide my steps in the direction of choice,
for if I disobey, his leaves rustle in grumbling voice,
"Enter the forest, child, without fear of what I ask.
Moon and I will guide you with each virtuous task."
In the forest of my dreams, my path alters each night.
Sometimes I run to follow a nightingale in lofty flight.
There are times when I must free myself from a maze,
or suckle from mother fox, a kit waiting for her praise.
One starless night, I stumbled on a gnarled tree root
whose existence moments before, I dare not dispute,
for the Ancient One is very aware of every step I take.
Forest fauna watch over me 'til first light of daybreak.
I am puzzled why a forest sylph, I was chosen to be.
Ancient One said I would understand all the mystery
when after the last of my journeys comes to an end,
and I'd comprehend that my dreams were a Godsend.
So I do not question when his branches point me East
to right a wrong committed, turning famine into feast.
Or travel North and South, tending a nation that bleeds,
with a message to forests to provide for hunger's needs.
Each morning I awake with the memory of my dream,
my feet wet from wading through a shallow stream.
Some day soon, I hope to learn the reason for my quest.
Tonight I'll be in the forest when the sun sets in the West.
April 17, 2021
In the Forest of My Dreams Contest
Sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose
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