Lying on a bed of grass blades.
Constellations are my blanket.
Breathing in the darkest shades.
Listening to the cricket’s melody.
The sweet caress of the flowers.
Their scent coating my body,
To be washed away by the showers,
The cloud band poured down.
Swaying with the Whipping Willow tree,
With each burst of wind set loose.
Soaring with the birds; so high and free.
A giant world through the ant's eye.
Skipping across the variegation pond.
The fish nipping at my fingertips.
Whispering secrets of the fond,
Mother Nature and her gifts.