I Hide Deep in the Woods
Donald P. Goodman III
Version 1.0,
I hide within the woods; the treetops shelter me,
a sunlit ceiling dappled with the dew of dawn,
and rustling rills like ripples in a greening sea,
like waves of whisp'ring winds are ever newly drawn;
I hide within the woods, where all that holds the sky
like sentinels of stone are standing wooden wards,
the posts which friends enclose and enemies defy,
a wall of warmth which homes from wilderness affords.
I hide within the woods; and covering the ground
remains of life long dead, e'er lying down to loam,
a woodland blanket first known not by sight, but sound,
a crisping, crunching carpet for my hidden home.
I hide deep in the woods, where creeping things abound,
and beasts afoot, awing, ahoof all wander free
and roam at will my home, my seat and bed surround,
in birth, in life, in death our ways in harmony.
I hide within the woods, my shelter from the strife:
my chamber, home, and fortress, liberty and life.