Curious mind, I see my path in the reflection of the metal.
Arms wrapped around cylinder wood, a tree; I am free.
Cinnamon spice laced with the wind.
Imprinting with my nose.
The direction I should go?
Traipsing through wavering fields.
I See into the eyes of every blade of grass.
Beckoning to me, speaking to me.
twigs as fingers wrapped in mine,
and it feels so meant to be.
This is nature, and I shall stay here.