The Spirit of the Wood

And when the swarm of clouds settled

a new magical country sprang up in the desert;

trees great and small, flowers in the clearings,

waves of lowly sward cooled the world

and the wilderness came to an end.

‘…’

But the sun shimmered on the tops of the trees

where the souls sunned themselves in the depths of the dream

and below, the undergrowth with the dry leaves

conversed with the earth, the animals, the flowers,

in the shade and in the clearings

with a life in abundance.

‘…’

But now I am awake again

outside the dream filled with shadows and light.

The wood lies before me,

ready again to fly to the ends of the sky

like a fiery angel of life

whose cup of salvation

has dried up

for a world which breathed its last

before the dream arrived …’

From the poem ‘The Spirit of the Wood’, by Ioanna Moutsopoulou

Cycle II: The Thread of Wholeness

To read the whole poem, please, click here to order the poetry collection ‘Souls of Nature’
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(Photograph by Yiannis Zisis)