- Wind blows soft on my bare arms
I ride through deep green woods.
These simple pleasures still I love,
Air on my skin feel good.
The wind shakes leaves for sidelong sun
To make her pictures from.
So much, so rich the offerings
This is senses’ realm.
Alone in woods, I plight my troth
To earth and gods thereof.
I sing my own sweet melodies,
To solitude and love.
Far from the maddening crowds of folk,
I hear earth’s own true songs.
And then refreshed by woodland charms,
I feel at peace from wrongs
Inside my heart,there is a wood,
And there I shall now dwell.
And so I’ll solve the mystery,
Of how we can live well .
Each wood has its special birds
On tree tops in sunlight.
And each wood has its special song,
And each wood has its sights.
I shall accept the mystery
Of who has made my wood;
And how we are all joined bodily,
All sharing this green blood.
Deep down we go into our hearts,
To find out who we are.
Just at the deepest,quietest parts
We find all beings there.
Deep down we go into our hearts
Published
How my heart sings 