The Painted Forest

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“The Painted Forest” – Pencil, ink, watercolor and leaf on paper – My Artwork – 5 1/2″ x 7 7/8″

The painted forest is still this morning
Involved in dreams of atoms and energy
And, acorns choosing a home in the quiet earth
While the squirrels, awaiting their decisions
Watch their reflections in the clouds
Wondering why swollen seed pods have fallen
With the brittle and discarded twigs
Into fairy rings of golden mushrooms
In the same patterns as this morning’s tea leaves
Wondering why the bits of broken mirror
And, the stones the color of the sky
Have been carried off by crows
To the place where the dream of the forest goes
To the place where the golden mushroom grows

 

So, tell me a secret, painted forest
Tell me something no one knows
Tell me why the seed pods fall
Tell me where the echo goes
Tell me why the dew drops fade
Tell me why the white cloud grows
Tell me what the squirrels are thinking
Tell me what the acorns chose
Tell me, tell me, painted forest
Tell me something no one knows
Tell me what the tea leaves say
Tell me what the pattern shows
And, tell me, tell me, painted forest
Why the wind no longer blows

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