The leaf falls silent to the ground,
And You can hear whisper of the trees -
Woods in the deep are seemed to haunt
With Spirit of the Nature 's breeze.
Through carpet of the moss and grass
You walk along the ancient track,
To watch the magic ever-last,
To hear the song soul follows back.
A trace of chant, a touch of vow,
Voice of the woods speaks in your heart.
The power, on you bestowed,
Shall make you feel belonging part.
An endless story could be told:
One in the other’s coming turn
All seasons - silvery to gold –
Shall pass and die and then reborn.
In sacral Kingdom of the woods
Forever quietness is kept,
And harmony such only could
Your soul sincerely accept.
In the woods
© Copyright: Винсент Марков, 2014
Свидетельство о публикации №114021009232
Свидетельство о публикации №114021009232
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