A silent power vigilant beneath the forest bough,
No thought of past or future holds thine eye… only the Now.
Part of an endless cycle of the life and death of earth
Within the kernel of each death the springtime seeds of birth.
When grace and strength and purity have crowned thee for the good,
Stand proud and tall in majesty, as master of the wood.
Reblogged this on Daily Echo.
Did you draw the stag, Sue? It’s very well done!
Yes, a good few years ago now.
I love the stag. Beautifully written.