Mottled beams of sunlight
Filter down through dense canopies,
To feed the whispering, wooded forest.
Stirred breezes and shadows move like liquid
Over a carpet of soft pine, fir and spruce,
Signing the expectant dance cards
Of lithe ferns, purple trillium and yellow violets.
Sleepy, hatted heads of mushrooms, peek toward day.
From all directions, tenor trills of warblers
Pierce cocooning olivine and emerald shade.
The shush of fresh streams and creeks,
Stemmed by branch-rich damns of toiling beavers,
Sing of the sunrise, as it is mirrored in a myriad
Of translucent lakes.
Speckled twin fawns are born to greet the world gently,
Bathed in buoyant, healing air.
As the forest revels in the exultant goodness
Of a mountain morning.