Old Growth

I know a place in the very heart of the forest
A sacred grove covers the gate into the hidden woodland realm
None but a chosen few can find the paths that lie in twilight, the twisting
trails of moss and fern, of mist and morning dew
If you enjoy the friendship of the seasons and learned to listen to the trees
I will guide you to an ancient place where time does not exist
And no man’s hand has ever spoiled the earth
Where Mother Nature resides
In every tiny twig, in every silent leaf, in every drop of silver rain
There is my home