Sssssh
May
Ssssh.
The woodland is still.
Its quiet tones shimmer
as bulbs push through the earth
and bluebells nod their heads,
glorying in soft breezes
gently passing by.
An aged tree lies where it has fallen,
helpless victim of a gale’s fury.
With head buried in decaying leaves
and roots facing the sky,
it remains immobile, neglected,
anchored in damp earth.
Above it, a youthful green canopy
dances and sings
heralding with joy the lighter nights and summer days.
Sssh.
All is still.
But wait…
There is movement –
a flowery skirt,
scarcely visible against this woodland’s luscious backdrop,
a tiny concentrated face,
arms balancing,
foot over foot.
foot over foot,
fingers tremble.
The forest holds its breath.
A squeal of joy,
a radiant smile,
victorious hands punch the air.
And the fallen tree
– ugly and barebasks
in the knowledge
that he,
of all the trees in the forest,
Is the chosen one
– a child’s delight.
Written by Sue Chalkley
