green-man

He the one from long ago
He the one we used to know
His fingers grasp our very roots
And from his body sprout green shoots
His arms and legs embrace the earth
And make each hidden seed give birth.
He the one whose coat of leaves
Protects the wood and interweaves
With every twig and branch and bough
A pattern written in the slough.
His eyes are on the water's edge
His hair grows in the hawthron hedge.
He the one whose open mouth
Speaks the words from North and South
In the wild wind of the wood
From the place where once had stood
The sacred oak, the holy tree
Which sybolized eternity.
He the one whose heart and veins
Fill with every Summer's rains
And bring the fruitfulness of all
From thrusting bud to leafy fall.
His sinews are within the bark
His mind keeps working through the dark.
He the one whose inward thoughts
Twist all roots, each one contorts
Into the labyrinth of time
Beneath the oak and ash and lime.
Out of the dark his tendrils creep
And slowly 'wake from Winter's sleep.
He the one, at Springtime's birth
Becomes the father of the Earth,
Whose green and brown and yellow skin
Covers Nature's discipline.
Seek him now, if you can
But beware the old Green Man!