Forest

It’s difficult to imagine The vast amount of secrets That are kept in the forest I strained my neck upwards Staring up at the canopy of trees So high that it would take fifteen of me To reach the very top, I pondered their immense height, A feeling of insignificance rushing over me, And I thought, “What knowledge do you conceal To justify the way you tower over me? What do you hold back from the world?” Rustling breaks my concentration, And I snapped my eyes back To the forest floor, Where several specks of fuzzy orange Appeared within my peripheral vision, The little fox cubs noticed me And stared curiously, Making unwavering eye contact That same feeling returns As when I contemplated the trees But this time, It returned in tenfold, Perhaps it was the sheer weight Of all of the tiny black eyes staring at me, Realizing my typical human unawareness Of that unique experience of wilderness Which separates all men from beasts This was momentary, however, As within a subtle movement of my hand, They fled.