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’
(Photograph by Yiannis Zisis)