In the woods behind the mansion
of golden brass and woodchip gardens
There are secrets without words.
There are ogres that guard the ivy,
And sprites that paint the leaves
Abandoned fairy boats floating down the creek
And shadows that duck behind trees.
A crisp, cold breeze that hits you in a way that never hurts
Grass so green its color stretches into the next dimension
Trees of ivory with obsidian bark
Life surging through the air.
But the best part of all is the tangible light.
Filtering down through the peridot leaves,
You can reach out and hold it in your hand.
You don’t have to worry about it flying away
Because you know it will
And it’s okay.
The woods behind the mansion
Will never tell your secrets.
Not the ogres or the sprites
The fairies or the shadows they cast.
In the world behind the mansion
Nothing matters anymore.