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Jan 4
The deer trail is more still than quiet
Scents becoming louder than vision
Eyes close in deep temple breath

There is no more beautiful rain
     than forest mist
Sprigs of fog that are at once
     barely seen barely felt
Bundled moss like hyssop soaked
     in holy
     flicked with urgent intent
     soft wet sprays make clothes
     my nakedness
A baptism that fills my lungs
     with the spirit I belong
> May The Forest be with You.
> As published in Dark Horse Appalachia
> As published in The Indiana Gazette
> Listen to me recite Forest Spirit at
             DarkHorse7 on Bandcamp
Girard Tournesol
Written by
Girard Tournesol  M/The Pennsylvania Wilds
(M/The Pennsylvania Wilds)   
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