The Forest’s Voice: an original poem

I always wished the forest to be mute,
and so I first knew it.

But it began to whisper to me
beneath the pines.

It sought me among the ferns,
along the paths.

It mingled with the rain
of shattered oak leaves.

Its silence stalked me—
until one day it screamed.

Then I understood:
it did not exist on its own,
only a fantasy
while my inner voice lay asleep.