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I feel at home
among the trees.
And their omnipotence;
branched afree.
There’s flourishment in
their fawns and parakeets.
That creates to grow away;
greyed infinity.
A jump for life; cyclically.
Like, immortal leaves,
that fall froze in frost,
then, are flung by spring.
They, unashamedly,
leap upon sunny treen.
In uncaught, gasping vistas.
Not, lone, soiled views.
When seeds’ pure persistence,
reach up, in their air; for me and you.
Those strong roots
entwine and twister.
To come on home;
for precious scions;
to live and breathe
and bloom on through.

© poormansdreams

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