As sunlight strikes a perfect pitch across the canopy
the azure ceiling presses gently down on brittle boughs.
So empty and so clear the space between the rocks and stars
that Earth considers dancing \’round the Moon as Time allows.
“A moment longer,” shrieks the Jay who craves a quick pursuit.
“Two acorns more,” the Squirrel chirps, forgetting all she stores.
“Another trunk,” Woodpecker pleads between two urgent strikes
while thoughtfully Buck guarantees, “Wild flight the soul restores.”
Upon this raucous choir of Life I stumbled innocent,
believing here I’d find a space to rest from Humankind.
Yet although in a wintry wood we first experience peace,
listening true to Nature’s heart, no stillness can we find.
“So then we fly!” my blood declares a brassy, pulsing note.
“Such wondrous dreams we’ll dream beyond the even bars of form!”
But in response the Buck retreats, and Squirrel hides above.
My consciousness drums heavily through, a wet and windy storm.
Upon the path of deadened leaves my footfall begs to join,
as Forrest quietly hums a tone that here I may belong.
Soon as we seek then Fate reveals a simpler part to play:
Earth ever dances ’round the Moon while we just sing along!