Deep in the Green of the Eaves

The flowers don't stand quite as tall,
Or proud,
Since you've gone.
The tree's leaves wilt so easily,
And the wolves howl in mourning
Nothing is the same,
Deep in the green of the eaves

Oh,
How I miss that gentle wisp of air,
Blowing the soft scent of lilacs across my moonlit-kissed face.
How I miss seeing you there,
And then gone,
A fleeting glimpse of the anima of the forest.

Live on,
Gaia!
Live on and love,
Your home is in the depths,
Of the heart of the forest.
Deep in the green of the eaves.

Cosmos Winterhart-Danial

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Chronos, in the year 305 AF.