Slice of moon,
bare branch
stark against the sky,
scent of new grass
mingled with
the earth stirring to life,
feeling
the pulse of Gaia
throbbing
deep underneath
my feet,
rising up
my body
as if it were
a young sapling,
I want to
grow my hair
wild and long,
run deep into
the oldest forest
I can find,
make a dwelling there
out of branches, leaves
and the shed skin
of a deer
who no longer wants it,
and spend my days
communing with
the trees.
