Soft the leaves feel under my feet

A carpet of moss and lichens

Spread across the forest floor

As I listen for the murmur of life

Echoing from the beyond

 

Spirit world is all around

Perched like a sentinel

Watching us all the time

The observer becomes the observed

Down the warren in swirls of time

 

Halycon days of childhood dreams

Give way to the harness and bridle

Perspectives change in subtle ways

What was, no longer applies

And somethings lost, but somethings gained

In astonishing subliminal ways

 

The low winter sun reaches its meridian

Casting dazzling light in all corners

A young deer's heart beats true and fast

And rising trout dapple the lake's surface

And a hidden door slowly opens

Within an ancient tree bough

That leads downwards in spiral steps

 

Copyright by Peter Paton 2005