Forgotten Bogs from the beginning of time
Rich damp moss
layers of peet
Locked up and dormant from winter till spring
Broken by forests, sown in by land.
This tapestry of nature weaving through time, fading behind
as if it always had been
As if it always will be?
But still from the heat and rain the ferment begins
Crawling from mud and water it brings
Life exploding for just a few weeks until few are the many on gossamer wings
as if it always has been
As if it always would be.
And man who has scratched and swarmed
the surface above hopes
To live out what he’s made and become.
Exploding on the scene for just a few weeks until few are the many on gossamer wings
As if it always has been as if it always would be.