Graffiti in the Woods
After storms and raging winds
flung twigs in carpets on the ground
are hyroglyphs unread, not found,
punctuated birds footprints
patterned in the fertile mud,
crisscrossed with dark feathers fallen;
A hex bereft of human hope,
Unread, Ignored
And unexplored.
All the signs are written plain.
Such a shame we’re blind and deaf.
Such a shame we never looked.
We should read graffiti left.
Look deeper at the weave and weft.
© A.Chakir 2023
The Dreaming Path 