Explore Poems GO!

Spirits In The Wood

Standing all alone in the woods;
eyes shut, I feel the lilting light.
Sun dodges needles through the crown,
beams land on my skin softly so.
Brisk breezes quicken and rustle.
Bristlecone pines ever sway slowly,
while pockets of air blush my cheeks.
Staying stalwart in meditation,
cones crinkling as puffs roll them
gently across the forest floor.

Thoughts judder to the hovering pines -
Read More

Saturday, October 17, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: history,myth,science,tree
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Denis Mair 17 October 2020

Beautifully conceived. There is a life-plan operating in trees, like a living blueprint which specifies the wood's grain. Minds also have a living blueprint which charts a thread of indentity among disparate moments and states. A blueprint can only be known by another blueprint. It has survived this far by resonating and growing together.

0 0 Reply
Gajanan Mishra 17 October 2020

Softly so, good one. Thanks.

0 0 Reply