There is a forest that howled
For some reason only to a man gently wandering through
She seems to have caught his footsteps
As he passed through one morning
Stirring the autumn leaves
 
She croaked as though a giant bird
Stopped him in his tracks
He turned to look and see
What was there, watching
Calling for he
 
There is a forest that wailed
For some reason to a man no longer seen
She called for his attention
Brushing at his ears one morning
As he meekly strolled on through
He peered up to the branches
In search of a bird
Nesting in the last of the leaves
His eyes drifted through to the grey skies
There was no movement
No birds to see
Measure or size
 
He gazed back to the trail
Placing another footprint into the mud
Again he caught her cry of sorrow
He turned and opened up
With his lost, forgotten voice
Began to sing as if there was no tomorrow
 
‘I call to you as you call to me
I chant as you chant
I hear you cry as you see my tears fall inside
I spread my arms as you stretch yours
I feel you take root and carry the land
As you hold my last steps
Those of the rambling man’
 
They gazed and fell into one another
Became one and grieved
The chill of the breeze lifted
Whistled through their grey skins
And broke them free
 
‘It is time for me to make roots’ chants the man
‘There is a land I’ve not yet touched or seen’
He slowly echoed his breath with each departing footstep
Disappeared into the shadows of the fading trees
 
The forest could now be heard weeping from a far
Said to be the harrowing winter winds by distant passpersby
She wailed and wailed
Weeping for love
 
‘I will be back again’
He whispered through the breeze
We will sing together
The voice of the land
 
The last of the forest leaves were caught by these words of truth
And pirouetted to the ground
Dancing with his footprints
They kissed
As lovers hand in hand