into the grove rolls the midnight,
stone circles stand at attention,
wildflowers spear through brush and undergrowth
intertwining a seasonal drama
into the grove flies the wind,
babbling brook murmurs a greeting,
leaves settle and wither to dust among the mossy banks
clearing new homes for their children
into the grove fades the fog,
hidden corners parade in turn,
sweet smells of nature drift through the forest
in all times and places
- rajajuju
