Sacred Woods
B
Barry Middleton
0
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in sacred woods there is a whispered voice
where I might closely listen to the wind
and with it comes a message to rejoice
for deep in its embrace the soul may mend
and filtered by the trees a hallowed light
casts golden spears and shadows to the earth
and every gleaming leaf reveals its might
where dryads trace the legacy of birth
it's long ago that I would lose myself
within that grove to ponder lessons there
recorded for my notebook on a shelf
beside the burdens that a man must bear
but when the seasons turn and darkness falls
my notebook yet accepts another rhyme
and I return for still the woodland calls
from cherished places not yet left to time
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