The leaves themselves are waiting, deep in the wood.
The creatures of the forest, waiting, deep in the wood.
Beings light and dark, of chaos and order, evil and good,
All waiting for the sleeper who lies deep in the wood.

She who is the forest, slumbers long and deep,
She who is each creature, who long has dwelt in sleep.
She who is all nature, carer of the great Green keep,
She who sees each sparrow fall, and for each does weep.

Wakened once by Galadriel, who her essense gave,
Resting once again, can another sleep's fetters lave?
For the Green Lady's waking does all the forest crave,
Through sleep's dark veil, one to pierce and to stave.

The tallest trees are waiting, deep in the wood.
The children of nature, waiting, deep in the wood.
The creatures anticipating, so deep in the wood,
For one to come awaking, deep in the wood.

Penned by my hand on the 8th of Phaestian, in the year 275 AF.