Sunlight Shards In The Wild Woods Poem by C Richard Miles

Dying daylight dozes in winter’s slumber.
Dormant bulbs and branches pause, poised to ponder,
Sure that seasons follow in slow rotation,
Waiting to waken.

Through the slant-slit slots in the wild wood’s apron
Thrust sharp sun-lit glintering, grasping fingers
Slicing deep incisions in dismal darkness
Severing starkness.

Bursting brash from blackness and desolation
Fresh shoots leap to life at the spring’s insistence:
Snowdrop, crocus, daffodil and narcissus
Bettered by bluebells.

Glorious gleams burn bright in the summer’s searing
Sultry sunbeams filtering to the carpet
Clothe the forest, garlanded gold with garnish
Deadening drabness.

Mellow autumn’s flickering, fleeting embers
Seem to soften oncoming frosty strictness
Fetching forms from underground, fungal bunkers:
Mushroomy moistness.

Shadows sink again in the sombre stillness
Lulling life to laze in its hibernation
Dreaming through the dusk in anticipation
Silently sleeping.