In times of ancient, you left your love letter to me upon the shore, an infinite circle, made of sand and stone; drawing me back to you in this lifetime.
Walking amongst the ancient trees,
faeries in the mi(d)st,
looming unseen . .
The scent of Hawthorn and Elder,
I stumble through the brush,
twigs crackling under my feet with each step,
I inhale deeply, this forest,
it grows inside of me
Can you feel me here amongst these old souls?
She whispers . .
fluttering about the treetops,
the music of her voice dancing in my ears with delight