In the forest
After so many days bushwalking
The forest magic opens to me
My mind fills its emptiness
By finding creatures where none exist.
I can see slinking down the trunk
Of an iron bark a critter
When I approach it is only
A twisting branch.
On the trunk of this tree
A bark lady waves her arm
Seemingly calling to me.
The slow growing moth left
Behind an illegible message
Imprinted clearly in the trunk
The question arises : Who can decipher it?
Not me for sure
For I am a neophyte,
I still have so much to learn.
Further on a fungus
Points a clearly defined signal
In the form of an arrow
Who is it for?
Why would it grow in such a shape
So high on a grey box?
The rain left its own mark
The water trail becomes
The ghost of a man
Spread of on the ground.
A spot of raw sap morphs
Into an exploding volcano
Of bright colours detonating
On the greyness of the trunk.
One sees and feels so much
In the forest not yet tamed by man.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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