Down In The Woods

Impartiallly warm
an open palm
a light stroke
as if God spoke
between each leaf
of beech and oak.

Here, away
from my own kind
I'll unwind
my mind
like the wind
from the trees.

I touch as I walk.
Their rough bark
against my hands
understands.

Song.

Sweet notes suprising
moving air
proving here is life
like dough rising.

This
is where I belong