memories of the forest.©
art and poetry by caroline street
MEMORIES OF THE FOREST.©
A poem by Caroline Street.
Slash, Loblolly and Jelecote, curious names
For the majestic pine and eucalypt,
Sweeping over the valley and up
The mountain as far as the eye can see.
Peering skyward, hand cupped over my brow,
The treetops are indiscernible as they
Evanesce in the heavenly glow.
Sunlight infiltrates the dense foliage of the conifers,
Creating abstract images on the forest floor,
Whilst it indulges in rotting cones and leaves.
Standing still, I perceive the distant hum of bees
Interrupting the silence of this natural cathedral.
I meander through the aisles of the green chapel
And gaze in wonder at nature's harmony in every nook;
The only unusual sound,
The crackle of cones underfoot.
At noon, I hike through the undergrowth -
In the distance, the roar of water can be heard
And the closer call of the oriole bird.
My eyes light upon the phenomenon,
A veil of white water crashing into a lagoon;
In its wake, a halo of icy mist fills the air,
Saturating rocks and plants everywhere!
Water-filled fissures sprout glistening emerald ferns,
And concealed within the violet shadows,
Is a moist undergrowth; cool and unseen.
In little hollows of the earth’s terrain,
Is the habitat of different species
Of reptiles and amphibians.
Lemon-yellow sun-rays filter through the leaves;
A kaleidoscope of patterns dances on the streams.
From the canopy of a towering tree,
A flock of birds takes flight.
A little further on,
I spot a moss-covered rock to sit upon
To catch my breath, to contemplate,
To breathe in the beauty of this hallowed place,
A little piece of heaven, maybe Heaven's gate! ❤