Here In This Forest

Winding up a short pack blanketed in pink orange pine needles
Beams of shadows dancing across their fragile surfaces in the misty sunset
Into the swallows of green life where at first glance
Each sprout bristle and tree appear flawlessly the same
But there's that one in the distance that my fatigued eyes of hazel
Always incline towards until the apprehensive tension of wondering
If I'll find it this time settles into this serene surety
With everlasting green needles high above and a wide scalloped trunk
And a little dent in the ground where I've spent hours
Gazing at the trickling flakes of snow on leaves
The winks of the petite bluets and zinnias that soak up the sun
The never-ending layers of homework and relationships and
You and me and her and him and them and tomorrow and yesterday and then
Catch a ride on each soft wisp of breath I offer before dispersing into the ether
On wispy strings of fluttering wings and freshwater springs here in this forest
Here with this everlasting pine is just that one of place where I can
Let everything go and embrace the present and in return I can just be.