A Tiny Forest

Long ago, I left the city.

I searched for a home to love.
I found a deserted corner far away.

I have let my tiny forest grow.
I want to know the sounds around me.
My wooded range has many mysteries.

I need to learn natural wisdom.
Can I be relevant and contribute more?
The oaks and maples grow taller.
My tiny results have made me humble.

W. Wayne B.

Follow me on Twitter: @williamwayneb

About William Wayne Smith

I'm a poet, library fan and maker.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged city, forest, gifts, home, humility, mysteries. Bookmark the permalink.

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