AVENUE OF THE GIANTS

Mythical isolation discovered in a forgotten kingdom of leaves

While cavorting with wood sprites and fairies of old

They fly invisible, Their presence gold flecked

Filtered on billowing sunbeams scattered

By warmth refracted around dawns long shadows

Whispering history a thousand years since creation

Hidden in snippets of knurled conversation

With each step grows the insignificance of man

Paling when placed adjacent to the tallest in the land

With crowns high touched by misted clouds

Aloof, aloft, Lost in its own verdant mystery, proud

Roots bridging changes brought upon by every generation 

Unfazed by the novelties of Mankind’s creation

The Giants are in no hurry to converse, preferring

Silent observation to vocal offering

For they have seen enough of human errors and excesses

to remain happy in Nature's last quiet recesses

Minding their own business as passersby stand and gape

Their pastoral existence confounding the educated ape