Soul Of The Woods

To pluck the strings of wooded bliss,
I only know to summon this:
from ev'ry dale and crested tree
upon which lands each bird let free.
 
There -- a reason to sing and live
wherein, a song my heart can give
and ever true from me to you,
a friend once had not joy as you:
 
My pathless woods, my one true home --
to Thee I give my only poem.
Here, my last once as my first
within a past for better or worse.
 
Roaming free within your care
always to be and forever there;
fed as creatures well sustained
at every turn, my will be tamed.
 
But never will I walk away --
this everlasting soul will play
upon these strings, your music wild
as I, your never aging child.
 
      .....