Voices in the Woods Could we but hear the yearning for freedom; the cry of the forest, the voices in the woods. Could we still the abuse? Quiet the roar of exploitation? End the mindless destruction? Could we but listen to the gentle murmurs of life beneath the fallen leaves; could we but thrill once more – just once more! – At the call of the wild under the pale moon. Could we reach understanding from life forces at play beneath the heavens beneath all those eyes watching the movement of humanity? Could we but rub the slumber from those eyes within, the slumber of aeons so deep; Could we but throw cold water on those care-worn faces hiding the programmed minds who live for today and remember nothing tomorrow; Could we but awaken suddenly, in the midst of our cacophony wipe away the veil of greed and the barriers of fear: could we remember the dance to the music of the woodland?