I belong to the woodlands
tall pine look down with
sheltering glances
their emerald crowns
caress the heavenly blue dome
Winter sun is a bright Jewel
through the branches
air is sweet and fresh
a sleepy wind blows
across my face
And if it weren't
so late in the afternoon
I just might snooze here
on a bed of pine needles
but instead I rouse myself
and sing a song of gratitude