The Forest

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