Goddess of the woods

It is not the trees or the space between them that makes a forest a forest

for the forest is what lives beneath the earth

It’s roots like veins pumping magic

you’ll hear whispers of the ancient trees speaking in tongues long forgotten

feel the whipping wind about your ankles and the branch that scratches against your cheek

it is the feeling that you are home yet some how still in danger

and it is that fear when you find yourself in the woods alone and see me lurking between the trees

two eyes of autumn gold and grinning

for you are a trespasser both welcome and the enemy