one day

a song was sung to me

while I was sitting under a tree

an angophora large and full of holes

homes for creatures young and old.

 

I leant my back against roughened bark

closed my eyes and with a start

heard a voice

a melody

singing in my heart.

 

one day the dryad sang to me

a woman’s voice it seemed to be

crystal clear and true

a song from out of the blue.

 

she sang to me

sounds I had never heard

she sang of life and loss and birth.

she told her story with poignant mirth.

 

 young once and new to life

this dryad roamed wild and free

a playful spirit full of glee

creating with cloud and water and sun

each moment a pattern

kaleidoscopes of fun.

 

 the dryad kept roaming

until one night

when solid arms folded her tight.

roots took her down into the  journey of earth

and sap lifted her spirit into rebirth.

 

she felt a rising of emotion new

and recognised a love so true.

 

time stood still and change occurred

with reverent grace the dryad merged

to become one with tree

leaf bough forest

and me.

 

the spirit still roams

with sun and star

wildly embraced from galaxies afar.

 

one day the dryad sang to me

of life and loss and eternity.

 

spirit is

can be.

will be

within the tree.

 

I am the dryad

and the dryad is me.