I would gaze up above and see shafts of light shimmer downward
through the naked branches of oak and aspen.
The trees long asleep waiting for the sun,
the warmth of summer that will bring forth the green.


With eyes closed my ears would prick at the sounds
of the littlest creatures dwelling within.
Birds sweep and float and spin at dance and play
as a single hedgehog gambols in to stay


Thundering in from the Northreach wood,
a rain swept wind at my cheek does cling.
Teasing the lie that winter has withstood,
even though it will pass with the arrival of spring.


I would lay my hands on each tree feeling each hole and knot.
I would understand the scars of life living in the forest.
I would care for my friends with my newfound free nature spirit.
I would guard it with my life from those that blindly hack.

But alas I'm just a mere bard, a teller of tales I be,
Whose words and sword will aid the forest; this I decree.


If I had a grove....


Penned by my hand on the 18th of Sarapin, in the year 608 AF.