Fire In The Forest

I shall not sail the wild ocean,
Or cross the singing sea
Where the starfish and the dreaming coral
Make their promises to thee.
I cannot climb the windswept mountains,
Touch the snow at heaven's gate,
Or gather up the stardust
And bring it necklaced in the night.

Rather I shall come to you softly
On the fragrent feet of spring,
Out of the echoing forest,
On the bellbird's beating wing.

Oh you may hear an angry word
And turn to look and see,
But I shall never be there,
Do not look for me.

I shall speak to you softly
Of creation's many creeds,
Like fire in the forest,
Or wind in the dancing trees.
Like the crys of the newborn infant
In the blushing mists of dawn,
I shall speak to you softly
With Nature's subtle charm.


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