The Magic Juniper Trees ~

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The Magic Juniper Trees

From past lives and kindred spirits;
the boughs whisper the secrets of time,
standing tall, high on a mountain,
a voice is heard as a gentle echo,
softly as wind that blows in a chime.

Words are not enough to describe the rare beauty a child sees,
hidden in the Juniper Trees.

Engulfed in a mist of white flowing robes,
the light of the moon cast shadows of mystery,
upon the Juniper Trees.

Inside silent eyes, the fertile blue fruit,
with blueberry eyes they see;
Out of the corner of your eye, you see only a glimpse,
of their movement at night,
On little feet they move, as they dance in a meadow,
in the glimmering light.

Majestic mountains of midnight blue,
illuminated by stars, a wondrous hue;
For hundreds of years and winters endured,
lofty Junipers, overlooking the valley,
like centurions stand;
Sharing the secrets of the Indians
that once shared the lands.

Standing beneath branches scorched by lightening and withered by age,
Overlooking meadows covered in snow,
poised in grandeur, the pondering sage.

Emerald green boughs clothed in winter blue berries and gold mistletoe,
Trees of long standing cultivate the youthful,
from seeds that you’ve sown.

As the sun sets in the West, from the light of day, into the eve,
there is something about the Juniper Trees,
giving me peace and a feeling of ease.
Feelings of love carried by a breeze,
secrets of sharing, giving,
in the magic you believe.

Cast in a spell by the Juniper Trees,
happiness surrounds me like words from a rhyme.
My thoughts are enchanted held motionless in time.

There is something about the Juniper Trees
that have given me a spark,
sending my thoughts from head to my heart.

Sitting alone, skies filled with glory,
pink, yellow, tangerine, turning to amethyst;
the color of jewels,
as a messenger from the Gods, gently the moon appears,
again it is night, the twinkle of stars,
the sky ignites.

Tears of joy, the silhouette of the Junipers Trees cast a sliver shadow,
Out of the corner of your eye,
you see only a glimpse of their movement in the night,
On little feet they move, as they dance in a meadow,
in the glimmering light.

@Wendy L. Zake
October 9, 1998
Truckee, CA

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