The period of dawn when there is just enough light to walk thru the woods, enough to observe and absorb – It is so calming, so rejuvenating; One gets transcended into a mystical atmosphere.
Although it is one of the cliched fact told over and over again, it cannot hurt to say one more time. For each such morning is different, each experience is different in its own memorable way.
Spring Up in Woods
Rays stir, fluttering at horizon,
Getting ready to stretch out.
And it is quiet in the woods, very still.
Blue green Eucalytus leaves hang in slumber;
Giant pPetticoat palms fronds refuse to be roused.
Dreamingly lay many sprawled old Oaks,
Embracing the warmth of vines and runners.
Blooming today to leave the cosy folds –
Thats immature, so think the lil buds.
Warp and woof, smooth and unperturbed,
Roll out crisp grasses on the floor.
Nothing is moving, no one is running
In the silent clusters of the woody bushes.
Four or many legged souls, or those winged ones
Did they go some place else, you would wonder.
And It is quiet in the woods, very still.
Until Rays tickle the sleeping canopy,
And shake-up the tranquility for the day.