By Mark Bishop
How many wordless hours have I longed here in the wood
And known the stilling of my heart when still so far the heavens stood
How many thoughts have wandered the dusty winding trails
And found in these a better home than plasterboard and nails
How many tears have had their birth and run their course into the stream
In but a moment swept away to join a grander dream
This soil grows the silence somehow the trees have understood
This place that only listens knows me better than I ever could