It's cut into pieces, but the shade welcomes me.
It sways back and forth -
begging to dance with me -
to the sound of a light breeze that is
probably in E which
is a little too high for me, but
I'll sing anyway.
A duet with the sun - I'm outshone but that's okay
because light is your specialty;
peace is mine.

We could dance for hours anyway;
I've got timing and you've got time and
we could probably busk in the streets if
we wanted to - but it's nicer here
and they wouldn't understand
the way we dance.
It's like a language that we
speak with the trees
as we bend our knees and extend our arms high -
surround them with sky,
to create a rhythm our minds
can't grasp.

This feeling is a release of
our souls - yours and mine
and it's not for sale;
it's for sanity
When I lay down here next to
my favourite tree,
listening to the wind, watching the
blue sky, I
find my *sanity.