Somewhere shuttered behind
the midnight curtain of the virgin forest
where sweet blackberries ferment in
frothy, soil making bed for unseen creatures
When fierce spirits yearn and scream
To free themselves from the sorrowing
destiny of birth and death
Along the sacred hymns of whirling wind
seeking mystic solutions
between the ancient oak trees
While the nesting birds in brim of sleep
witness in silent prayers
As pure and clear as Crystal drops
Life throb on towards the
Eternal sustenance of mother Earth.
jaya.poetry.blog 