In the heart of the wood, in the green trees
I wait, breathless, still, my arms outraised,
The sun and moon pinwheeling over head and ears
A little tuft of red, a muzzle, a fire burning
On a hill where the the trees are creaking
And the sharp rocks in the sun have crazed
In a thousand year's moments here and passing
And I watch and wait as day and night eat
The course of the world's swift movement of time
Recorded in the treetrunk and the ears of wheat
The writing of the earth penned wide and small
These I see as within me passes all these things
Growing, changing, always I watch and make mine
Knowing in this green flame what future brings
The same as the past forever.