surrounded in a dream
a menagerie of green
for allow me to rest
under one of your trees
to bathe in your shade
to interpret the breeze
from mountains, valleys, swamps and seas
to know the pulse
of your lava veins
coursing under the lakes, fields and plains
all to come to grow this sapling thus
so I might have this moment of ultimate trust
resting upon olden trunk
older than me but younger than some
that the grass might be my bed
the sun lazily smiling over head
for yes, sweet mother
spring is the summer’s dawn;
so here I am
in wonder- of this quite wonderful world.