Montseny Mistic

The Magic Forest

 

A foreigner from fielded lands

With prairie thoughts of desert sands

Who'd never seen a wood of oak,

He came to visit forest folk.

And in surprise he only sees

The mighty oaks and cypress knees,

Begged, "Someone will you help me please?

I cannot see the forest for the trees."

 

So I, a common forest folk,

Rustled in the leaves and spoke,

"Don't look into the wooden faces

Searching for the forest places;

Wander with the scented breeze,

Past mighty oaks and cypress knees,

Forget the timber your eye sees;

Our forest is the space between the trees."

 

 

By Thomas Allen

Done