Poetry Archive
The Forest Lord
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Wrapped deep in my thoughts was I,
As I walked by the forest's edge.
The trees stood in serried ranks,
Hoary trunks, buried deep,
Deep in shadow,on that summer morn,as,
A brisk wind blew, shaking leaf and bough.
In that endless rustle of leaves,
I heard a rumbling, murmuring voice,
Not one, not two but many I heard,
As I stood listening on that fair morn.
Something stirred within my heart.....
Impelled by it I walked into the trees.
The deeper I went, the stronger they grew.
Far of in the shadows, light pierced through.
I walked into a clearing filled with light.
A stream ran by through a mead,
Gnarled, mighty old trees stood there,
Boughs moving in the breeze.
As I stood there looking upon them,
A voice I knew not spake thus -
"Who art thou, young human, that dares to,
To step unasked into the land of Folhart?"
I stood silent, in great awe,
For I knew that name......
The name of the Forest Lord !!
"Mighty one I came not on purpose.
Walking on the borders of your land,
I thought I heard voices in the wood.
Those voices led me into the trees."
"Come forth, human, out into the light,
Step out for I desire a closer view.
It is long since I spoke to a man,
Hence I wish to speak with thee."
I stepped out of the great forest,
Into the meadow filled with light,
Golden were the rays of the sun,
That touched upon the mightiest tree,
Folhart the great, the lord of the trees,
Of whom many ancient tales speak.
He looked at me long and deep, then...
Then he called me by my name.
Surprised I was that he knew of me.
He answered my unasked question thus,
"I have heard of your meeting with the Eagle Lord,
Zirazkil himself told me the tale"
He spoke of the forests, his lands,
And asked me of the deeds of men.
Saddened he was, with man's rashness,
His brutality in killing creatures,
Creatures weaker than himself.
He spoke of the great friendship,
'tween the ancient men and the trees.
Long tales of the ages he narrated,
Life stories of beasts and trees.
Much we debated and spoke about,
The pages I have will not suffice, if...
If the tale is told in full.
Soon it was noon and I took my leave,
I bade him farewell in this way,
"Farewell lord of the forests and woods,
May not frost or heat touch thee.
May thy subjects grow in peace, and
May God shower his grace on thee."
He replied in his great voice,
"Farewell young man, lead a good life,
May thou not be withered by age.
Treefriend the Blessed I name thee.
Visit me as and when you please,
All my lands are open to thee."
I bowed and headed back home......
.....Many a time have I gone back,
Many a time has he asked of me,
To stay in the woods with him.
Very soon the day will come,
When I leave this world of men,
And dwell in peace among the trees......
This poem belongs to the poetry archive on Chips’nCode. Where surviving legacy material exists, the original title graphic is kept with the poem as part of the record rather than rebuilt into something newer.
Copyright © Manoj Prajwal Bhattaram. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations used with clear attribution, these poems may not be copied, redistributed, adapted, or used to create derivative works without prior written permission.