Rays of shiny freedom shine through the green leafy gold..
The wind does whisper secrets to the branches to hold..
The river faraway has a faint song on shuffle mode like on audio tapes
There is moss entwined on the trees... holding us close..
I look up in awe at the forest of mighty trees..touching the sky...close..
Until my foot stumbles on the journey of their networked roots...
Reminding me that it is the endurance of the sinewy roots...
The quiet roots that overcome the apathy of the mountain rocks, with persistence..
That make the trees of the Olympic stand tall.. in the sky with magnificence