Sitting in my forest of seclusion I close my eyes,
I think of the birds on the wing high in the sky,
And how they teach me no matter the impossibility
There’s a way if I find it, a way for me to fly
Then I wonder why, alone in my forest of seclusion
The good ones die? grief’s in my heart,
What’s the reason for this intrusion? But it made me strong
And they’ll live on, for death as an end is just an illusion
And then in my forest of seclusion, I see a pack of wolves
And they teach me with the beauty of there movement,
To be at one with our world, and everything included,
So we would never see a broken world in need of improvement
And then a hoot from the owl cuts through the air
A reminder from this hunter to use your eyes beware,
Coz even alone in my forest of seclusion out of nowhere,
I could be pursued, its either reality or delusion,
Kaspa Richards
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/forest-of-seclusion/
