The trees are still talking to me

my creative journey continues, the forests of trees that hold such abundance.  Somethings calls me when I walk amongst the dancing leaves, the verdant lushness, their vitality and majestic power.

A dear friend posted this beautiful poem, I had forgotten just  how beautiful these words were, a poem I had ready many times a few years back, but had faded in the mists of time…………….

Sleeping in the Forest 

I thought the earth remembered me,
she took me back so tenderly,
arranging her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds.
I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed,
nothing between me and the white fire of the stars
but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths
among the branches of the perfect trees.
All night I heard the small kingdoms
breathing around me, the insects,
and the birds who do their work in the darkness.
All night I rose and fell, as if in water,
grappling with a luminous doom. By morning
I had vanished at least a dozen times
into something better.