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