One - a poem of presence
I stood...
And the trees seemed to
wrap their arms
around me... Green feathers of the forest tickling my attention into stillness. Rooting into the soft, muddy, earthy floor, I grew... wrapped in the woody embrace. Rock by my root's foot. Breeze floating through lacy boughs of hair... softly rustling water flowing like blood in my veins. Ram casts a glow at my crown. Meeting... Merging... One.~Joni Sturgill