The Forest


R699 per m²


‘I walk under tickling mist

of a morning drizzle

Healthy curtains of brown and green,

in vivid relief against the blue

Little rivulets meander

keeping paradise from going thirsty


Vague columns of mist

necklace the tall, blue mountain

rising like a looming cliff

Softly glowing silver creeper vines

entwine hedges

marking paths between

the swaying blackness of the trees


The flailing of the forest dies down;

a soft rustling,

and then stillness

Fingers of fading mist

swirl around the trees,

the sun lingers behind thinning clouds


The forest echoes;

a buzzing flutter of unseen wings

and the sound of water,

dripping from a thousand branches’


VaL Smit ©