Whiffling Wonder

disarmed of perspective, mindless, to this ancient forest I pay homage, my senses soaked in misty meadows, the dark-green carpets of its clearings, as rough edges of leafy bough sway and cut the blank blue of their only sky; with arms outstretched, I stand in awe, oblation to the wondrous wonders around, I stretch myself, hoping that I may become just like an artist's taut, transparent canvas on which no less than artless and artful truth may then be indelibly etched and painted; by allowing this inchoate enchantment to permeate the core of my whole being, in a light sense , I feel good having done something good, no matter how fleeting, for it whiffles away in the din of subways, gnarled traffic and toxic smog of rat race city !