Rapture of The Redwoods

I've never seen the Redwoods but I'd like to.

Rapture of The Redwoods

The ocean breeze is coming in,
and tender is it's touch.
It gently spreads the thickest mist,
on a spruce grouse and her clutch.

The air it brings is cool and damp
with a chill that has a bite,
and then I see the porch lamps glow;
its haloed yellow light.

A small log cabin I call home
lay hidden in these woods
and all around the giants stand,
in soft green covered hoods.

They're reaching for the heavens,
the universe beyond;
all the way up to the stars,
we share a common bond.

I have loved the quiet dark,
the swaying of the boughs
and all the things that usher peace
in nature's sacred vows.

And in the end when I am gone
as shadows block the light,
I will reach up to the heavens,
like the Redwoods in the night.


T.L. Finch