Bluebell Wood

If you wear a garland of bluebells, you will be compelled to tell the truth.

Bluebell Wood

The wood is wearing
It’s garland of bluebells,
Stopping us on the path,
Calling us to witness
What nature can do
If left to itself.

We are not alone.
Around the corner 
Someone is calling,a dog
Ruffles the undergrowth,
There is a buzz in the air,
The trees are singing.

Here is the truth of it,
The cycle of things,
Beyond us, within us,
Around us, always.
We are back on the path,
We are footsteps, heartbeats. 

Derek Ross