I step where mosses weave their green,
On earth untouched by mortal hands,
Where ancient trees, with roots unseen,
Hold secrets in their winding strands.

The mist, like breath, enfolds me whole,
A veil of time that does not move,
Here, silence speaks and stirs the soul,
In whispers from the earth to prove—

That all is one, and one is all,
The fern, the tree, the stone, the stream—
Each life, though small, can rise and fall,
Yet bound by threads of ancient dream.

I walk with bare feet on the ground,
The earth beneath me hums and sighs,
Its pulse, the beat, a sacred sound,
A rhythm deep beneath the skies.

Time here does not bend or break,
It folds and rests, then fades away,
A moment’s breath, a stillness, makes
The world and I, the same, today.

In this place, there is no need—
No rush, no past, no future trace.
Just now and here, where thoughts recede,
And only being fills this space.

With every step, the mist surrounds,
The forest breathes, a quiet song—
I listen close, I feel the sounds,
A truth so deep, I walk along.

A place to leave what pulls and weighs,
A place to feel the earth’s embrace,
Where time stands still, and in the haze,
I am, and am not, in this place.

Barefoot I wander, slow, untamed,
Through ancient woods, to nowhere’s door—
Where senses speak, and hearts are framed
In timeless moments, evermore.

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