The Woodland Goddess
The Woodland Goddess
Thy mystic news from out the Invisible
Would save all men, were they but content to dwell
In lowly station, proud to share the power
That shapes the world in secret, hour by hour.
Her rosy fingers touched the ancient words
And lo! they quivered with the ecstasy
Of crimson bloom, sun-glances, caroling birds,
On forested green island waking into glee.
R.J. Lindley,
April 17th, 1973
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