WOOD CHILD

By Nolan Moon

Nature seeks her wandering child; stars will lead her on her path. Infant in the wilderness, away from human wrath.

Just a moppet in the woods, sucking at natures treats.

Not knowing of the victories, or the moral defeats.

Tasting of the virtues,

Reluctant at the samples. Fearing of a shortage,

Yet supplies are ample. Running in glee,

Bounding in gladness.

Touched by the sanctity,

Caught up in the madness' to be lost,

In a swirl of wooded dreams. Self lose of your memories,

And forgotten in your scenes.