The Ballad of John Muir Woods
The Ballad of John Muir Woods
I squint at the splendid morning sun
golden filtered bright rays conveyed.
Speaking they say, sit, little one
rest a spell in our noble shade.
I squint at this forest of titans
sitting, I wait for more whisperings.
They weigh my thoughts across the breeze
you are part of our air, they sing.
Youth returns in kaleidoscopes
sprightly green patterns swiftly shift.
Tinged golden from morning’s new hope
their harmony in sea breezes drift.
These conifers sprout from stump and boast
wildness, our need is undisputed.
Redwoods, the glory of Cali’s coast
engage me and call me beloved.
DE Fullerton
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