Poem: I Belong To The Forest

I belong to the forest,
Where the ancient trees
Stand strong and tall,
Home to many a creature’s call,
The spirit of the Earth upholds
The magic of the wood.

Bare feet stepping softly upon,
A carpet of green,
Of grass and moss,
Leading a way where we can get lost,
And find ourselves, still, beneath the dross,
Of a world that is not our own.

Hearing the birds that tweet and trill,
Sitting on each branch and bough,
The song of a robin or the hoot of an owl,
Uniting with the gentle breeze
That rustles the leaves of every tree;
The music of our home.

With a scamper, scuttle, skip, or scurry,
Catch sight of something wild and free.
Bouncing merrily into the thicket,
A mouse, a vole, a badger, or rabbit,
Make a home within their hollow,
And of bountiful pleasures fill.

Abundant with blossoms, berries, and nuts,
A flash of red: perhaps a squirrel or fox.
The forest feeds its population,
By a stream hum an incantation,
And in the clear, a deer will appear,
Before slipping swiftly away.

I belong to the forest,
Now, and in every lifetime before me,
I feel the echoes of who I am calling,
The secret of time and the silence that’s falling,
As the spiral of thoughts slow to a cease,
I can Pause,
I can Breathe,
I am Peace.

By Sylvia Villa
(2025)