Walking through the forest
On a misty morning
There is dew everywhere,
Little tears of the forest
Birdsong swells before falling once more
Steps are padded,
By forest floor
Evergreen
Pine reminds of Christmas
Sunlight flickers through,
Struggling to reach the earth
Hoofbeats are heard
Dream-like creatures are seen
A herd, a family
Younglings prance about
In peace
There is a misty quality to
Everything
One tosses his head,
Little stubs can be seen
He still has specks of white
He is growing alongside the forest
Sit down, watch
No
There are still things to be done
And yet…
Stay,
The forest whispers,
Stay
The branches sway, alluring
The leaves are half-golden with sun
Mist rises, glittering
Dewdrops in patterns and leaps
Stay
The youngling is watching,
His dark eyes mischievous
He is unafraid
Of the would-be danger
There are things to do…
Yet, the forest is calling
And us creatures must obey