In the light of the moon,
I cry to her,
To sing her song,
Of the woods and the world.
I watch her as she sings her lonely lullaby,
And I sing along with her,
The sadness sinks in,
And I sing with my heart and soul.
I listen as the trees whisper,
The tails of the days of old,
What will be forgotten,
Many years from now.
I watch as the stars twinkle,
As they remember the ones who came before us,
Of our ancestors,
Who fought to bring us what we have today.
I smell the fresh pine,
It is sharp and clear,
For it all surrounds me,
And creates my woodland home.
I drink from the stream,
That runs through my forest,
And I eat the stale meat,
From yesterday's dinner.
I howl again,
My cry sharp and sweet,
And as the moon fades into the light of day,
I wait patiently for tomorrow night to come again.
 Midnight Visitors · Fri Jan 05, 2007 @ 11:17pm · 1 Comments |
