The Woods


It stands not too far
Appearing for all like ancient woods
With bent and weathered trees
With thick underbrush
With scurrying animals and birds
Yet the air taste strange
And the trees more alive
When you near these woods

A power lies upon these woods
An endless twilight
Beneath green leaves
Strange lamps can be seen
Among bough and trunk
Strange laughter can be heard
Deep within the woods
All who enter never stay
All who seek never find
All who are lost find food and shelter
But those who seek harm are never found

A power lies upon these woods
Be it summer, spring, winter, or fall
A peace can be found
Where the weary find rest
And the restless find stillness
A whisper can be heard
Like wind among leaves
Or the quiet song of strings
Playing through the night
None have ventured to cut tree or stone
None have questioned why this forest remains

It stands not too far
Appearing deserted and old
A remnant of what it once was
The people watch and plan
Yet somehow it always remain
Year after year
Century after century
Where the air is rich
And the trees sway in windless air

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