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