Into Mirico : A Traveler's Poem

Upon the Unexpected Road

On quite an uneventful day, in quite an uneventful way

Walked I within a forest near, and this is what I heard it say:

"Annuk'ha qu'andonad - On'peqin amad-odod."

And inquiring of the nearest tree to speak again - It gave a nod!

And then it spoke the forest deep, as if awaking from a sleep.

"Welcome, stand among us now, and precious do our secrets keep."

"You've left behind your Earthly lands, and things made all by human hands.

Beyond these boughs held up in joy, a place of wondrous whimsy stands."

"Indeed," said I, "As not aloud, have I talked with bark and branches proud.
Into dreams have now I strayed, or with new vision am endowed?"

The trees they laughed a chorus all, and gave me pause to feel quite small.

"You are not changed," the trees replied, "But now is veil that once was wall.

You sought us in your very heart though knew you not the play or part.

The way is made for few to pass and in yourself you set the chart.

And now come in, and hearken close, to what the water speaks and knows.

And stone and wind do find as well a reason for the path they chose."

"But how tis it I've come to roam, in place so strange so close to home,

where trees converse and rocks decide and voices linger in the foam?"

"Child of Earth, the bark and bough cannot explain the why or how,

but set your foot upon the path, and find the answer, then or now."

"But welcome me, in foreign place, with human heart and human face?

Since time was time my kin have harmed, and made a ruin of Nature's grace."

Now all the boughs I saw to shake in memory of such mistake.

Yet seeming so to gently smile, the leaves above me ceased to quake.

"Oh child, do not condemn all deed, but simply plant your caring seed.

For know we well that loving heart is spark for such a fire to start.

Do come, and make your presence known, and gifts within shall soon be shown.

Better are we all indeed, when we in hope stand not alone."

And then beyond in shadows rose a silhouette in standing pose,

a hooded figure walking tall, with slender beak instead of nose.

Appeared did he into the glade, and smartly was his tunic made.

Of braided root and flowered strand and grasses wound in fine brocade.

His pointed boots at toes curled round, and wore he bells of tinkling sound,

and his cape of patch'd moss and fur did drag so gently on the ground.

Bowing low he spoke and said "We greet you well, with lowered head.

Come out now all, where 'ere you be, and child of earth be welcom'd.

And then behind the shapes of trees there moved yet silhouettes in threes.

Uncountable in numbers more appeared a flock of Feathabees!

As slender as the trees they stood, on tiptoe there at edge of wood.

And smiles upon their faces showed intention only to be good.

Some stood more than man is tall, and others were as babe is small.

Rich feathered plumage did they wear of every color, lovely all.

Most everyone wore cap or hat, bonnet, bloomer, boot and spat

and cloak and cape and tunic too, and also rags, imagine that!

Their eyes were brown and silver green, and blue with somewhat purple sheen.

Indeed, I thought, whilst looking 'round, tis strangest sight that I have seen.

"Be not afraid," they all assured, "For though you are not like a bird,

with joyful song we all have come, and of your coming we have heard."

"Do come now, join us if you will, as daylight wanes and grass be still.

And in our yonder home do rest, in safety to the dawn until."

And beckoning with slender hand, who still in hood and cape did stand

the first of them he spoke again, and said, "Of course tis no demand."

"Zwindar is my given name, and leads this merry band the same.

To take you safely to our lands was altogether here our aim."

"Go I along I shall a while," I answered with a merry smile,

and taking Westered path through trees we followed sundown for a mile.

Meadows wide and streams we passed, through tow'ring trees and fragrant grass.

And soon the winking village lights did twinkle yon in golden mass.

"Thereon be Lands of Mirico," said Zwindar paused at high plateau.

Soon all hungers, thirsts and yearns shall pass away along with woe."

And putting 'round myself his wing, he spoke as might a regal king,

"For though you be quite far from home, you shall not want for anything."

And downward into valley lush the Feathabees they all did rush,

all dancing, even singing too, at first in happy humming hush.

Then voice by voice they all sang out so merrily along the route

In homeward mood and pleasant tones a homebound tune they sang about.

"Sweetest light we bid you go, but back again you'll come we know.

Let moons against the dark be strung, and like the Beable, let them glow."

"Rest we all, together here, in comfort to each other near

and welcome Child of Earth anew, and bring her rest devoid of fear."
Given was I place to sleep, in mossy grotto soft and deep,

within the shelter of the trees in nightlong vigil sure to keep.

"This humble bed please do accept," said Zwindar, "And do safe be kept.

For many ages in the trees like this have all our kin well slept.

Do dream, and look to'ward the rise, where sun shall warm the waking skies,

and I to you will then return, as the night that now lives dies."

Then bidding me goodnight at last, Zwindar into shadows passsed.

And for a time the songs rang out, until to silence all was cast.

Then the night took up the song, with swaying leaves and humming throng.

And quite content was I to dream, for in this place did I belong.