I listen to the forest

 

I am surrounded by trees,

ancient history,

leaves of a different story

keep falling on me.

I can't see the road,

just the forest ahead of me,

all around,

just more

and more trees do I see.

 

Surrounded

by entwined vines

of old times,

some nice,

others I'd rather leave

somewhere far behind

but I can't,

they encircle me.

Every direction I stare

another branch of history.

Surrounded by old tree stumps.

Stories started, then cut down

before the rotten wood

could take hold.

Some of them could have turned good,

others were diseased

with spilled bad blood

of lies told to keep us down.

These trees of memory, I pulp

into the pages of a story.

So, in this forest I sit,

gulping down the air.

 

Through surround sound stereo

I listen to the songbird’s echo,

flying through the umbrella sky,

and I listen to the words that exist,

blowing on the persistent winds,

through the mist. I listen to the stories.

Every angry outburst, every cursed word.

Every declaration of love,

every moment of hope,

every doubtful moan.

I listen to the forest

and she sits,

listening to my story,

even the boring bits.

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

Endless Nightmares out now

300 pages of horror themed poetic storytelling

 https://amzn.to/42H2OGw

Please take a look at my previous collection "Torn Pages"

100+ all new poems not shared here before.

https://tinyurl.com/KCtornpages

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Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle