The Silent Wildwood whispers
from the ring of Elder Trees,
in the darkness keep I,
among Guardians and Bees.

Nature begets relentlessly
while You sleep,
Gods and Kings fall--
but She springs!
She is endless,
eternal--
She breathes!

Her enemies will rise and falter,
write histories and deeds,
forge sword and shield
and plunder--
but She never leaves.

Penned by my hand on the 17th of Ero, in the year 824 AF.