Wooded Path

170216

In my youth the trees held the sky
Filtering the clouds that scudded by
Shielding my eyes from the rising sun
Making patterns that changed, so much fun.

Small thoughts echoed through my life’s muse
I smiled, I was taught, but resisted the news
Giant weeds, or were they more a part of me
Early realms, shadows waving, not a tree

Loving their shelter from many things
The wind and sometime the Summer rain
Safety beneath their spreading charm.
Knowing they would cause me no harm

The copse in the village where I grew
became a sanctuary from all those I knew
when troubles touched my growing mind
walking among the trees left them behind

Now that age has changed my gait
to wander within those trees is too late
now there’s a new way of being at one
using my think, it is just as much fun.

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