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The forest knows and the forest grows
Deep inside a psyche somewhere
Tender as a wound that is healing
Endymion's paw prints near the marsh
The little mermaid's conundrums and those of the brothers - Karamazov and Grimm, yet,
The forest knows and the forest grows
Rushdie's roars echo as caves crumble
Vikram Seth's sun soaks the sky and makes it thus
Tender as a wound that is healing
The birds of Tolstoy and the ivy of Dickens
Gnarl through the rainbow earth, rooting all wisdom
The forest knows and the forest grows
The constellation of Shadow Lines and Namesake
Tesselate the nightly pond, bruising it and leaving it thus
Tender as a wound that is healing
Wilderness, as lush as Angelou
Dusk-music as mild as Wilde
Thickets of poems and stories on high trees and burrows, and yet, in silence,
The forest knows and the forest grows
(For an assignment, we had to write a villanelle. This is my piece.)
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