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The Woods Reflect the World

The woods reflect the world
In their untimely melody
In their ethereal dwelling
In the stray rays of light
Which bounce softly down the leaves
Like dust through an everlasting hourglass.
In the swirling liquidness of a breeze
Faintly perceived in a deep grove
In the fiery destruction of the wild
Behind a pretence of a peaceful, collective breath
In the airiness of sounds
Always fluttering, always out of reach
(Yet bound to the ear as the sea is to the sand)
As it blends in earthly, bittersweet vapours
And reaches the thirsting lungs.
The woods reflect the earth
In its still awakening
Its patient surveillance of Man’s impending arrival
Its surrendered beauty
Its closed availability
Like heaven’s doors awaiting
Welcoming, inviting
Yet unreachable in this flawed existence
(At least in its glorious fullness)
The woods are like the earth
At times elevated to godly revelation
At times submitted to qualms of men and beasts
In their unearthly life
In their charred remains
The woods reflect the world.


-Estelle Wallis, June 2017

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