Take me deep into the forest green
After the passing of a raging summer's storm;
And there, set me down
Among things damp and still,
As the leaves once more begin to search and feel
For the clearing sky with it's subtle sounds.
To watch the slender trees
As they gently repair themselves,
And say their sorrows for theirs that fell,
Then breathe their sighs of sweet relief.
And there begin a repair in me,
There beneath these aching trees.
And when this mending has covered all grounds,
And about is spread an apron, washed as new,
Stained only by broken light and shadows few,
The play of an emerging sun and swaying boughs.
Let me lie there, watching, forever unable to move,
Us, the trees and I, writhing in the clearing sky as one.