Dwelling in hundred foot green we reconvene
While a rollie pollie licks the ground and
I’m infinite years reclaimed
Lost in Gods replenishing grace
his meditation of
solace to man made grief

A place existed
Where my father becomes young in the soil and
I was born with the trees
my mother planted
and carved into nicely sanded wooden braids

my hair hangs as glazed seaweed flaps

my finger nails exhibit their destiny
to grow only what I'm still able to grow

A majestic oak branch plays with the sky
Radiating sunlit love
birds swing to the glory
and woodsy animals scamper in purposeful delight

This chapter does not close.

06/11/2023

Posted on 06/12/2023
Copyright © 2024 H.M Stevens