A wood is a place to stop and sit down.
Some trees are over one thousand years old.
The trees are quiet and take in all the sound
If an untellable secret is told
Up from the ocean come shapes with the foam,
Giving back skeletons of things it held.
We put our longings in the sea to roam,
The sea looks after them will they are quelled
If shells are longings and trees hold secrets,
Than trees should be whole and shells should be kept.
Pictures courtesy of arthill.smugmug.com "Pacific Ocean Painting 3278" and Gale Gerson on painterskey.com "Moonlit Forest"
