The Girl in The Forest
TH\\e light in the trees
It faintly shone threw
with its light golden yellows and blues
the dawn over a graveyard
Dew drops cover every surface
and the air is crisp
yet it doesn’t bite back or stab the chest
it’s
fresh and fieldly the fealty to a forest
yes the trees had woken up for a loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo-ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong stretch, they are very slow these trees and you have to be patient when you speak with them.
Many of our working days and nights pass
while the waking of a tree
a good tree, long and wide, its roots grown steadily in the fertile podzol, with wild branches of bed hair each strand reaching for the sky on their own
its belly a big wide tomb
In thousands of years it will die, become petrified as it grows deeper then shrivels slowly, retaining less vital nutrients at its core, hollowing in time
its life left behind
the shell
its great husk its bark how loud how proud how big and tall and strong that tree was in its life
how stubborn in the way it planted its roots from the seed
I AM HERE
A tree, singularly grown amongst its peers in a forest, the ground is covered in shades of orange and brown with leaves and sticks and duff
the good stuff
Food of the gods for the ancients to consume at their leisure, sticking their fruiting bodies out of the soil when it rains to feel the water trickle on its appendages
This is the place.
Bury me in the tree, burn me as a delight, somewhere so that the forest can eat me back up and I can be one with an old dead tree
undisturbed
perturbing
eternal ethereal ephemeral
turned to an emerald
