Guardians of the Glade

Guardians of the Glade

Silently, I gaze into the darkness,
Not thinking about what I hope to see.
At first, I feel nothing but emptiness,
But the darkness is staring back at me.
I sense verdant regard from the shadow,
Where sentries ponder thoughts of deepest green;
The forested abyss out my window,
Is home to entities watching unseen.
Tall they stand, they whisper in the night breeze,
And weave chimeric shadows as they sway.
I stand entranced by the song of the trees:
The sentinels that hold night fears at bay.
In daylight, trees are friends that give us shade,
But in the night, they’re guardians of the glade.

Mick McKellar
March 2015

I always felt safer camping in an area surrounded by tall, sturdy trees. Walking in the deep forest, I felt I could hear them whispering to each other, considering the small being in their midst.

Mick