An atmosphere to be absorbed,
Where trees ascend to heaven.
Words are nothing when compared
With Nature's subtle lesson.
An impulse from this vernal wood
May teach you more of Man,
Of mortal evil and of good,
Than all the Sages can.

Long have lands drifted and merged,
Jostled like waves on the seas,
Cloven, sundered, slowly diverged,
Regions rise and sink to their knees.

Long were the aeons of ice and fire.
For too long has there been
The blood of Man seen,
Living his generations of desire.

Empires of blood, fewer of light.
His wisdom and wars
Lie remote as the stars,
Ever blinking cold in the night.

What hosts, born, grown and gone
Have swarmed the face of creation?
What deeds has Man done,
Which pinnacle has he stood upon?

Now even the wisest can never restore
One tenth of Man's missing Lore.
Not even author a radiant book lost,
That so many treasured, at such great cost.

Its forgotten pages, blow scattered and torn,
Strange secrets whisper to the wind.
Man can seek, but will only find,
A few fleeting words, beneath history worn.

Man spends his short span, in a misty shroud of deception,
A woven fabric of belief, where good and evil reside.
In this World there can only be one;
For if there is enough light, where shall darkness abide?

I've strayed through many a land
And gazed on scenes divine,
But there's nought so fine or grand,
As yon green forest of mine.

Steer me through the bowels of Hell,
Show me the farthest shore,
But let me hear the forest tell
It's tales of joy once more.

View again the Northern Fells
And hear the lapping streams,
Listen as the wildlife tells
Remembered woodland dreams.

Join once more the babes of spring,
Playing carefree by the burn,
Serenaded as the Linnets sing,
Hidden deep within the fern.

My heart leaps, when I behold, the rainbow in the sky,
So it was when I began, so be it till I die.