Inaugural Poem
In this moss loving den of refuge
I could lay fallow for a while.
Nestled in any one of your multitudinous nooks and crannies,
or the cubby holes within your carved out grandfather trees.
I would love the damp yearning of evolution found there
if it weren‘t for my clumsy human skin.
Your swanky dank delicious mud roving paths
invite me to sink into your wetness
the fecund glory of early spring
that is echoed in your makeup of pthalo greens
and umbert browns
You have been bold.
Shifting, creaking and breathing in your expansive treed frames
reference.
You have ignored what we ask of you
and have gone on in shades
of
slate blue lichen
neon green moss
tan whirl of grass
and emergent planetary green.
In drifting epiphytes of surrendered grace
I could find myself echoing
the budding, rustling and persistent mold
of stubborn layers of enlightenment
I could find myself melting
into the moldy layered growth
that smells so sweet and silent
I could find myself in joy
through the chirping, snuffling, popping and hopping
of your fertile wonder
I could find myself truly in
the decision of the wind
to blow through only one strand of grass amongst thousands
I could find myself wrapped in
your fuzzy branches
supported by fungi pads of
creation, I could find myself.
In Solidarity, Zeratha