Step into canopied forests of vine-wrapped maples
and over the moss bedded ferns yearning
to be daisy filled meadows.
the way of the forest captivates, silences
Follow granite riverbeds to the edge of ancient forests,
for in the solitude of all living things
the sureness of the next phase salutes an amicable welcome.
a river surrenders to the suspense of movement
Stumble into brook waters of the lowest valley
and trace cloud shapes weaving parables
into the reflections between glistening rocks.
cloudy waters demystify an olive afternoon
Stand in awe of each untangled moment,
pausing for the beauty below and the beauty above, whispering to orchids laughing in trees.
mountains distance for valley spaces
Bow to January spilling diamonds atop snowy meadows
and a winter filled forest spilling into
moonlit trees tripping over unhurried boulders.
a new dawn reams itself from darkness
See how softness graces the flight of the butterfly
and how a desperate cry of a lone heron
pulls at a lonely heart; placid.
heaven is earth and earth, heaven
Angela McMullen is a freelance writer who lives and writes in maritime Nova Scotia, where she is inspired by the rhythm of the Bay of Fundy tides, the pulse of long-standing forests, the expansive fields of the Annapolis Valley, the backdrop of North and South mountain ranges, and the distinction of the four seasons. www.forestwriting.com
Angela's most recent work is a slim book of poetry that captures the pure essence of nature and her unwavering resilience. Infused with undertones of Italian influence, this collection of poetry speaks for itself.