crouched in dark woodland
listening.....
thrust of powerful midnight wings,
furtive scamperings tread secret trails,
wary, scenting human
upon the musty air.
And brock stays besett
for tonight i am fear,
alien, where no-one treads this hour.
Treetrunks creak harmony
to windswept boughs
kissed by moonlight
as thin, in the cool night
distant reynard screeches his love
carried on the wind
through shapeless darkness
I am here just to be here
to witness a part of creation
closed to us in our self centred humanity
to experience one more \'beautiful\'
hidden to us
yet real as the night itself
here to be humbled by my insignificance