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