Some say
That I am a myth
Or the spirit of ancestors
Appearing
But I could hear
The whispers of your mind
From the other world
Calling
Some say
That I am a myth
Or the spirit of ancestors
Appearing
But I could hear
The whispers of your mind
From the other world
Calling
I have a relationship with this bridge
It whispers silently
Old, rough hewn and solitary
It feels a bit like me
Picture and words by The Bison in the Woods (c) 2016
Welcome to The Bison in the Woods. I suspect that few that will find this private little place, but for those that do, I am pleased you are here. I created it because I need one little haven in this world where I can be myself, where I can heal and grow, without any pretension, expectations or roles.
In many ways, this is my next step toward authenticity and a life, lived bravely and more fully expressed. But I need to heal. I need a quiet place to contemplate and I have always found that place deep in the forest. There is a magic to having a dragonfly land on your hand or an eagle soar over your head. When the wind blows through the trees, I hear the whispers of lovers.