Healing Woodland Strolls

On harried days when our world seems unkind, There lies a place my senses crave to be, Within the shady forest wild and free, To ease the burdens of my troubled mind. I soak much joyous sounds the Wood bestows, Absorbing dawn aubades each songbird sings, While zephyrs murmur notes like cello strings, Beneath a harsh cacophony of crows. Infectious woodland scents I fondly yearn, A wily pungent fox peers with unease, The sweetness of the wildflower on the breeze, Against the bitterness of trodden fern. A rotted branch falls crashing to the floor, As Nature shows its sudden crushing powers, Two butterflies then kissed some purple flowers, Such gentle grace that startled me much more. A speckled thrush begins her fledgling wean, In search of food they squabble in a fume, A worm to share with raised and ruffled plume, She watches proudly o'er in perfect preen. These wilds intoxicate me as I stroll, The need for drugs or liquor I decry, Near Nature I am naturally high, As Gaia lulls me to her leafy soul. Dusk slowly looms as daylight moments wane, Return I must to cruel society, The healing woods restored much piety, My ailing mind refreshed, and freed of pain.