The Forest


Pencil on textured paper; 760mm W x 590mm H.

Where do you go to be still… to get away from reality and really look and listen; see and hear?

This is my place…here I find the tallest tree and look for new vistas to unfold from every branch. In every new vista lies the hope of a new beginning, not only for me, but for humanity.

Shipping size incl packaging

Height (CM) = 74

Width / Diameter if cylinder (CM) = 89

Depth / Diameter if cylinder (CM) = 17

Weight = 7kg

1 in stock


‘I walk under tickling mist

of a morning drizzle

Healthy curtains of brown and green,

in vivid relief against the blue

Little rivulets meander

keeping paradise from going thirsty


Vague columns of mist

necklace the tall, blue mountain

rising like a looming cliff

Softly glowing silver creeper vines

entwine hedges

marking paths between

the swaying blackness of the trees


The flailing of the forest dies down;

a soft rustling,

and then stillness

Fingers of fading mist

swirl around the trees,

the sun lingers behind thinning clouds


The forest echoes;

a buzzing flutter of unseen wings

and the sound of water,

dripping from a thousand branches’


VaL Smit ©

CYAN: An Anthology of Confessional Poetry, University of Gour Banga, Glomag India 2021