The Green Watcher Beneath Root and Bone

The Green Watcher Beneath Root and Bone

There is an eye beneath the soil,

not buried, not sleeping, but waiting,

wrapped in root and quiet wood,

breathing through moss and damp memory,

it does not blink when the light arrives,

it drinks it, slowly, like an old secret,

and the forest bends inward to listen.

Ferns curl like questions around its gaze,

each leaf a whisper pressed to silence,

the petals open without sound,

a soft green offering to something older,

and still that eye remains unclosed,

holding storms that never reached the sky,

holding voices that never found a mouth.

Who placed it there, beneath bark and time,

who taught it patience without decay,

it watches without hunger, without mercy,

it gathers the shape of every passing thing,

and keeps it, not as memory, but as truth,

the kind that roots cannot escape,

the kind that follows long after footsteps fade.

There is no fear in it, only knowing,

a calm so deep it feels like warning,

you could kneel beside it, touch the edge,

feel the damp breath of the unseen world,

and still you would not understand,

why it sees you before you arrive,

why it remembers you before you exist.

The forest is not empty, not kind,

it grows around watchers like this,

feeds them silence, feeds them time,

and in return it is never alone,

every branch, every fallen leaf,

is carried into that unblinking centre,

where nothing is lost, and nothing is forgiven.

If you wander there, do not speak,

do not ask what it has taken,

because the answer lives in your shadow,

waiting to be noticed, waiting to be named,

and once it turns toward you fully,

you will feel your thoughts grow roots,

you will feel yourself being remembered.

#Marie381UkWrites #www #viral #poetrymagazines #facebook #twitter #instergrampoets #vocalmedia