The Singing Woods Poem by Matt Mooney

The Singing Woods

Slipping
on to a motorway
you are challenged
by a charging elephant -
an unyielding juggernaut
terrorising you.

Surviving - just about,
driving on, on track,
easing away, onwards.

Words
throwing you a lifeline -
hauling you away
from the brink.

Settling
into cruise mode:
gathering at will
the gifts unpaid, unaided,
words
that drop into your head
seductive and insistent,
waiting on you to work,
to be yours:
words
that spring up
in your singing woods.

Falling metaphors
in the light
filtering through.