The Meadow

In the middle of the woods
beneath the shadows of the trees
Surrounded by the smell
of wild flowers and grass
-I stand.

In the distance I see lightening
The depths of the woods are dark
Yet, only the singin of the birds
and the flapping of their wings
-I hear.

The purple bleeding hearts
in the little meadow grows
As the last ray of sunlight
sets upon them fading
-I see

The woods grow thicker
as the darkness takes over
Shadows fill every space
and the meadow grows erie
-I'm lost.
2/3/05