I am a green boy,
At heart;

Fingers, thumbs and eyes
Filled with sky
Grass in my toes
Dirt in my nails
Bees in my hair.

Coarse,
The skin of my palms
Aching from toil
But more alive
With every windswept
Day outdoors.

Naked,
In the elements
Water courses
Capillaries filled up
Eyes bright with
The promise of morning.

Drawn out,
Into the bracing cold
Dark pressing silence
Waiting, baited
Inevitable sawing breath
At arm's length.

Whispers,
Betraying those timid
Wanderers in the night
Ever watchful
Budding sprigs
Building resistance.

Rooted,
Deeper than they know
Bark thickens
Broadening canopy
Heavy white mycelium
Ligninated heartwood.

Summer.
Autumn.
Winter.
Spring.

Rebirth.