Monstrous Beech trees
Spread out in the forest,
As if planted by some un-seen hand
Most all with holes in them
Sometimes stacked -
Looking like so many high rises,
Without elevators -
They're doorway's for the Bard Owls
So many times I have been here,
It's just below the cliffs
Few times have I glimpsed it's inhabitants
Drawn back time and again,
To these sacred woods
There's hardly no way,
To describe the beauty I've found.
It's peace in my heart
Harmony for my soul in Eastern Kentucky