The forests of our minds anew,
What fairytales would there unfold?
What secrets of our souls be told?
May yet enchant their erstwhile leaves,
To tempt us from our narrow paths,
Lead us to glades where danger laughs
See hidden truths amid the dance
Which heaves and sighs and calls us on,
While we play deaf to nature's song.
Which stretch and bend with sheaved desires,
Are many trees of light and hue,
No cloned or man-made avenue
Respecting not the need for reasons
To either bloom, or fall in turn,
Be evergreen, or yearly burn,
To choose one branch would yet defeat
Our spirits flight from soaring high,
Adores its rest but longs to play
In undergrowth of Autumn fruits,
Whose fallen jewels will send spring's shoots
Hopes be drowned by strorms which soaken
Every wish we'd see come true.
We'll drink their power, and hence, renew.