I lost myself in a woodland forest

To hear the trees sing,
Their leafy green notes plucked from the wind
By fluffy white lines of music
Written in the sapphire heavens above.
From the baritones to the descants they sang,
Their clear voices raised in a crescendo
To where the sun conducted in the sky
With a dancing, shining baton.
An orchestra of blue spanned on either side
Of the bright, boldly dressed choir master,
Their flutes whistling through the treetops
And their violins, cellos, and harps
Strumming on the heartstrings of the earth.
The voices of the trees blended in harmony:
The deep hums of the oaks and the cedars,
The light, youthful sounds of the beeches,
And the rich, strong songs of the maples.
To their mystical hymn I danced,
Their long arms swaying in time
With my wild, carefree footfalls.
From deep within the hearts of the trees
Their voices flowed out,
Swirling around my enraptured spirit
And piercing the centre of my vulnerable soul.
The earth reflected their mellifluous song,
Beating on the deep, ancient drum of time
And shaking the world with its reverberations.
The melody of voices flew amidst the tree trunks,
Soaring up beyond the treetops
And swooping down to the forest floor,
Singing to each other, singing to me,
Until they came to a rest,
And my spirit froze with the song of the trees.