****, I’ve been high since,
Since I was a kid,
I get lofty and light,
With the rest of them,

Granted my high was that due to elevation
And not escapism,

The Beech is the best place to go on a summer’s day

The weather like a warm blanket begs you to stay outside,

The branches crisscross across the sky,
Saving me from any toss,
Letting me think thoughts,
Of rushing from aerie heights,

I bend with The Beech,
And its soft coarse bows,
Match the gentle Maternal caress of the sweet summer breeze,
Beckon me into natural,
Seats, grown just for me,
As I have grown to be worthy of it

The clouds
Gentle behemoths
Meander beyond boundaries,
But never lose their lackadaisical luxuriousness

They’ve informed me
Today,
Today is the day for,
A climb,

I spider up the trunk and branches,
More mother’s ladder to father’s rays,
Even at the slight height,
I feel his tender gaze,
And embrace,
Protecting me from the ludicrous idea of failing,
Falling