The woods are quiet.
Gentle breezes, searching through foliage, soften the forest.
Limbs sway gently in the breeze, and
stretch toward the warmth and light of the sun,
while raptors soar overhead,
riding heated updrafts from the forest below.
The song of a winter wren breaks the serenity.
The wren, oblivious to such wooded tranquility,
embellishes the forest ambience with its melodies.
Later, clouds form and a gentle drizzle falls
bringing cool wisps of air,
Clouds collect, thicken and lag heavy with added moisture.
Rain falls hard.
Wrens and raptors find cover.
The clouds, releasing their contents,
lighten, rise and move on.
The sun reappears.
The forest warms.
Air currents rise again.
Raptors reappear in the sky.
The wren finds a spot of sunlight on a moist limb.
Its melody breaks the serenity of the forest and, again
the woods are quiet.
This poem was published at Black Hills Audobon Society web site.