“A Fox’s Poem”
written with a flick of a tail and a knowing glance
If I could write, I’d dip my paw in amber dusk and morning dew, and scribble poems on birch leaves for gentle souls like you.
I’d tell you how the world feels still, at twilight when the owls hoot begins, how moss remembers every step, but never speaks of where you’ve been.
I’d speak of rain like lullabies, of winds that blow through hollow trees, of wild paths that only open to heart made soft by peace. I’d write of sun warmed stones I nap on, the hush of snow beneath my tread, of berries sweet, and sky so endless, it fills the soul, not just your head.
I’d tell you, love- this world is kind though sometimes wrapped in thorns and chill. But you, with all your soft and seeking were made for moments still.
So rest when stars begin their singing, let worries sleep beneath your bed, The woods are wide but not un-watching- I guard the dreams inside your head.
If you ever lose your way, just follow where the quiet grows, for even foxes write of home, in paw prints only moonlight knows.
-Fox
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