PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Bare trees lay among the fog, the sea of ghostly white absorbs the moons light, it fills the wood like silk.
All but the fog is motionless, the soft footstep treaded ground, remain dark and at peace. It churns into itself, morphing new pathways and the prints dissipate.
Discreetly, the fog flows slowly into the roots of the dead trees, as if giving unto them, life. For their bare branches become elusively surrounded by warm colored leaves.
The sun has risen leaving the moon faded and retired, beams of light seep through densely packed leaves, the forest was a sight of being.

Ghostly translucent Figures evaded the newly constructed paths that lay sporadically throughout the wood, and with each step lie a print of their foot, the presence of each step emitted brilliant light, and fading as quickly as it came, returns to the next step each figure presently takes.