The crimson sun
lowers its tired body
behind the protective shields
of mountains blue
nestling itself in the
comfort of mother nature's breast,
warm and safe
such familiar security
The trees close their eyes
whispering soft lullabies
as their limbs sway gently
to the rhythm of lost languages
The silent flight
of the forest's nightwatchman
barely breaks the stillness
of the silken air
Deep breathing lichen,
like a steady heartbeat
nurtures and soothes
the tensions of the day away
As a pale lunar glow
calms the young ferns
the night is at peace
and the forest begins to dream
Copyright 2004 flying_fox
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