Walking through the valley she sees the leaves fall to the ground beneath their trees,
but as she went to pick one up the wind blew them all away.  
And so began the wait again, to land another day.
Suddenly, she is crawling, blind, across the living ground,
searching for her vision staring blankly all around.
Again the wind disturbs the leaves, then saunters on it's way.
The birds sit silent amidst the trees because the branches sway.
Or perhaps to see the leaves away, she freezes with a certainty.
The sounds are vivid, the smell is that of things long grown.  
Now she slips and turns a stone,
the taste of forest green perches on her taste buds.
She shivers, unsettled, and rests her body beneath a stoic tree,
the eyes of the forest settle upon she, in anticipation of revelation.
In the darkness, she savors the sweet touch of the spring breeze,
with it rustling a thousand leaves.
She is strengthened by the swaying rhythm of the ancient tree
and so she rises up off of her knees, and through the sensations ceases the need.  
And she sees!
To completely perceive she must live like the leaves.
So she, so relieved, knelt down on her knees
And freed her true essence to ride with the breeze.