The breeze brings its scent
in the flight of white birds
homing across sunset
Before I step into its shadows
I want to know
how vast its hollows,
the depths of its caves
and twists of its trails,
if light strikes its treetops,
dapples wildflowers,
lichen, round stones,
if other creatures inhabit
its meadows and streams,
who whispered first
into its leaves
what’s whispered now
to me