There was a time when I thought
you worshiped me
that we could hold court in
halls decked with leaves
the smell of the earth ripe and inviting
as we drank in the moonlight and
ate our fill of life.

There was a time when I thought
I was free
to wander in and out of your life
to be who I am, while I celebrated who
you are
we could walk the pathways of root and bramble
and notice but the faintness whispers of wings
the songs of the trees lulling us

There was a time when I thought
My heart was singing
A rhythm that sprang with every breath
Every whisper
Every movement being marked
Measured only in the time of breath

On a bed of moss basked in moonlight
lies a nymph playing with her Pan
flute
she cedes to his nature, yearning to
sense his nature, knowing only a
glimpse of the spirit within
knowing the music she plays
will drift on the forest breeze
echoing but never lingering for more
then a moment