I fell asleep in your arms forever and together we lapsed into eternity like babes in the woods. Forest green was our cradle and verdant moss bedecked a flower strewn winding sheet blazed upon by sun and cooled in moonlit nights. Gaia received us without judgment or blame thanking us for nourishing seedling eons. Gentle boughs bent down to caress our sunken cheeks. Roots plowed up the earth making sure we were firmly planted to her suckled breast.
Returning to Mother Earth to be scattered across the oceans, seas, plains……taken up by the wind once more. Galaxies. Sand. Soil. Swirling rings around Saturn Whirlpools of Atlantis Solar systems of revolving doors.
In the Dust of this orbital sphere are seeds and spores of generations yet untold. Stories to be written and songs to be sung. Poesy hanging by vineyard climbing ivy searching for fertile ground in which to take root and bloom. You are the pitter patter of dew arising with great tear droplets falling to moss and leaf covered ground. Take hold my Luna branches and spring forth from sweet tender Gaia into renewed awakenings.
Foliage covering preternatural forest an ancient womb delivering sustenance to all flora and fauna. You are the scent of a damp summer’s night. She suckles her young with tender shoots Arboreal Splendor to behold. Goddesses arise and walk about restoring the vanquished, quenching all thirsts birthing new lives.
While walking the Woodland Green I paused to admire a luminescent mossy patch upon the ground when a preternatural calm descended upon the forest glen. Caught in a vortex the earth began to spin.
Then came a vast rustling of leaves and branches so strong that I thought the mighty Looming verdant giants would come crashing down. Whilst caught mid-spin I kept my eye on light shone down from the jagged Oculus mid the canopy of trees. Forms freefalling started to take shape. A veritable multitude of amalgam multifeatured animals like none seen in God’s Natural Kingdom.
Seemingly Middle Earth had exploded skyward hurtling forth a cornucopia of imps, fairies, hobgoblins, centaurs, and satyrs, gremlins with their symphony of resounding bleats, howls, and shrieks. As they struck twig strewn ground at once began leaping, frolicking and gamboling in a macabre dance bier simultaneously appearing in forest clearing. Such a cacophony of squeaks, squawks, hisses and moans that assailed my senses that I shut up my ears attempting to block the imprisoning noises.
The Bier seeming to be the only source of calm called me forth from this forest den of iniquity bidding me peace, calm and tranquility from the storm. I answered Bier’s call to lie upon its violet flowered shroud surrendering to dreams eternal of the Babes in the Wood.