The golden rays of sun flood through the forest blanket
Beating down gently upon the garden rooted deep beneath the floor
I lie there amongst the flora and the fauna
Questioning my entire reason for existence
Inching up my legs are ivy vines and caterpillars
Who am I?

Overhead birds swoop 'round violently
Accusing caws as they race toward one another
Their feathers fall silent when the rain tumbles from my face
Drowning out the cacophony of fables from my youth
Searching for meaning in thatch roofed houses
Smoke it out

As the cats chase down their prey the bushes shudder and recoil
Painting the earth in green leaves, white petals, red puddles
Careful as they are, they can't avoid the thorns
Softening I melt into the growing brush
Folding like a deck of time-worn cards
To the other side of what?

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