Conversations With A Forest

The forest whispers to me,
At night when the whole world holds its breath.
Beneath the quiet, there is noise.
Secrets rustling around my ears.
Leaves shaking anxiously as the trees sway to and fro, 
A most restless audience. 
Tell us, tell us"  They beckon. 
The air is heavy with the luscious perfume of spring,
Lemon myrtle sweetly chasing the breeze.
Moonlight dapples the path,
As scattered as my thoughts.
Ivy snakes around my ankles as I walk,
Pulling me towards the rich earth and grounding me in the moment.
Breathe, there’s no need to rush.
A forest is a home for lost things,
Like the first green sapling which is so fragile and young or the majestic oak tree as old as time itself.
I whisper to the forest.