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