Let me lie within the forest floor
And see swift of birds, majestic soar.
Where in – the wild wood’s fallen leaves
I would lay with freedom’s gift of wings
Through the sweet scented musk of decay
I would receive the late days dappled sun
And as I lay – dream of the great – great scheme of things.
Where might I stay as seasons go
With bough, and branch to show each naked twig
White with frosted hoar clad snow.
Then once more nature’s miracle would stipple green
Budding leaves burst clean with sap sweet thrust
To summer’s broad leaf shadowed gift
While warm months, like a timeless thief
Slip by to autumn’s rust hues turn
And I would learn there is no grief
For trees whose leaves then fall to earth
More – I might lay in my sweet sleep,
Within the forest floor.