I sense the steady rhythm of earth
At the entrance of the leafy abode -
Within the creaks of swaying aged trees,
Within the claps of water pounding against softened pebbles.
This constant pulse lures child and man alike,
Complemented by the sporadic outbursts
Of feathered visitors residing in the oak,
Whose sheer size offers comfort
From the cloudy, chronic chaos
Of the unnatural world.
The forest seeks nothing from us,
And I, with wide-eyed wonder,
Let the lullaby settle the bustle of my mind.
Copyright © Lana White | Year Posted 2018