I Dream Of A Wood Poem by H. Rand Swansey

I dream of a wood
where the white birches grow,
where my steps, as I wander,
become shortened and slow;
where my senses awaken
to the wonders around me,
to the lichen and bracken
and the scents that surround me.

I dream of a wood
where deer amble through
in search of a succulent
morsel or two,
where cardinal and jay
call each to his mate,
and the sun and the trees
meet fashionably late.

I dream of a wood
with a dark, shallow pool
where tadpoles and bullfrogs
keep seasonably cool;
where leaves that have fallen
make green water beds
for dragonfly maidens
to lay down their heads.

I dream of a wood
that is deep as an ocean,
where even the crickets
are always in motion;
yet despite all the hustle
and bustle of these,
a wood that stands quiet
and ever at peace.