There is spirit beyond sense of openings in woodlands <br />Visible artificial light arcs through outer edge trees <br />Burdened to carry fruit; <br />Trees of life foreshadow the faithful path <br />Through woodlands, sound chambers with hope struck <br />By engaged necessity reach for the man in the light <br /> In woodlands there are no familiar paths; <br />Through openings in woodlands tree stumps speak <br />The communal symbolic language of life lines in a star streak <br />To a rustling of farthest fears of thunder and fateful closeness <br />Of reassuring silence; light of grammar blooms and browns <br />In woodlands we meet when blooms appear to color her allures <br />Her ashen lips fill with blood and swell from the heat of touch <br /> The kindling embers when we greet the smell of her skin <br />The hair that pollinates to draw us to her sensuous whereabouts <br />The touch of her wet-leaf kisses scintillate the reluctance of <br />A season the rite releases the crick to flush and prune the edge <br />To overgrowth that distills spirits dripping into rubber, coconut <br />Milk, wine strung instrumental reeds of vibrant melodies; love <br />Saps and we are just but shade of trees of sun dried bush beds <br /> Of seed, vocal cords strung to bell and drum warning sounds <br />When mountain waterfalls tongue lap at lakes - sky covered tree <br />Leaf roofs droop, to shed aphrodisiac dews marking woodland <br />Territory on drip lined pine needle beds; from overhead woodland <br />Hoods block out star light stored for energy -for love winds <br />Through the night and occasional woodland stars are strung <br />A morning bright -a bat of an eye a clearance a passage but no <br />One comes to respond to waves of greeting a continual jubilee <br />Of praise so souls bereft are left to boast of familiar paths <br />Once through woodlands.<br /><br />Lee B. Mack<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/visible-openings-in-woodlands-improvisation-08-28-04/
