I am at home here
among the green.
When sweet birds sing,
I know the song.
I find familiarity
in the slow way
things grow.
I look up
at the trees,
reaching branches
and feel as though
I have bark
of my own.
The petals of
the brilliant flowers
remind me
we are friends.
Nestled into
flickering patches of sun.
Dreaming of
wearing moss
for clothes.
The wind whispers
“you are always
welcome here.”
Apr 5, 2019
Apr 5, 2019 at 8:26 PM UTC
I am at home here
among the green.
When sweet birds sing,
I know the song.
I find familiarity
in the slow way
things grow.
I look up
at the trees,
reaching branches
and feel as though
I have bark
of my own.
The petals of
the brilliant flowers
remind me
we are friends.
Nestled into
flickering patches of sun.
Dreaming of
wearing moss
for clothes.
The wind whispers
“you are always
welcome here.”