| When the Moon is round In spring or summer, Go to a place Where more than two But not over twenty Trees are growing, Measure their bounds By silent walking, Mark their center And in it stand, But make no sound; Listen and watch And you may find Green and silver Shadows flying From leaf to leaf, And a noise like water Or quiet talking; Strike three times With a stick of oak Upon the ground-- Then you may see In every tree The falling streams Of their silver hair, And their hands Like silver-flickering air; Their frightened emerald Eyes will stare Until you look away-- Then though you stay For a year and a day, You will not see them again. |
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| For Discovering Tree Spirits |