“Words are wind.” George R. R. Martin
I take my time stretching amongst the branches
of the Oak, Walnut and Tulip trees growing in my path.
I don’t mind, they add intrigue to my already uncharted trip
That began miles before I reached here.
Dancing with leaves keeps me afloat as I swirl amongst a feathered nest
Glued to a branch enveloping new hatchlings that perk at my arrival.
With a change in velocity I dip
Toward the moss tufted forest floor and the creatures hiding here.
Decaying logs and bramble brush won’t keep me from surging along
This dirt path that rises to meet me, dropping humus in my wake.
I stumble and tumble my way to an open stream where I skim over stones
Whose shiny backs give energy to my journey.
Racing along the streams curves I take a new path, climbing the craggy edge
Upward, jumping over a hollowed den awaiting its new resident.
Higher I rise, jumping the leaves that welcome me back to their heights
That offer unimpeded views of what lies ahead.