Shadows of the woodland delineate the Birch,
rimlit by a golden dusk.
Deep within the dark places overlooked by light
life lingers.
Dark corries of bark, haunt of Woodlouse and Slug,
highways of the hidden.
Leaves meld and merge into orb and sphere,
mirroring the tangle of stars.
Orbits woven from beeline and pollen drift,
signposts of life to come.
A rustle of wind writes a new score,
tweaking and testing the way of the Birch.
Scribing new runes from light and dark,
dance steps in the tango of being.
Watched by the beings we carry in our pockets,
those who eat our dreams.
Fabulous poetry dear Jason, I am just loving this work of yours. Powerful.
Thank you so much Michelle. I’ve been so nervous about making this side of my writing public. Your comment here is encouraging to say the least.
It most definitely needed to be seen and enjoyed! So much soul, so much beauty….I have long thought so.
Thank you Michelle, much more to come. 🙂
The last 2 lines are very thought provoking and ring true
Thank you Jenny.
Beautiful poem, Jason! I especially like “Dark corries of bark, haunt of Woodlouse and Slug,
highways of the hidden,” because of the image it provokes and it’s specificity. But the entire poem is lovely and I love thinking about what I carry in my pocket!
Thank you for taking the time to immerse into my words here Melanie. I really appreciate it. I’m going to send out an email in a few days highlighting my approach to writing and I feel it’ll be of interest to you.
I agree with you wholeheartedly Melanie! 😊