Movement

I think I see movement through the dark trees a mystery in the forest waiting to be revealed I dreamed as a child of lost cabins there in wood or meadow lot I still have these visions the shelter is small, dusty tired, rustic, welcoming overstuffed plaid chairs everything one needs warm rough wood paneling sunshine on mesh curtains foggy mullioned windows it is safe here, a retreat I am alone but the place is haunted by ancestors ashes are my protection the forest gods whisper I see movement in the trees the mysteries are revealed I would give up everything to step into this quiet dream