Becoming

On moss-covered patches
Sitting amongst the quiet still trees
Canopied above
Becoming one with bird and beast
Eyes closed in awareness
Mind slows
To a feather thought.
Heart bare to the day
What will be or what may
Silver tendrils escape
Caught by a whispered breeze
I cannot see.
Fresh cut earth fills
My senses carried forward
Like sightless roads through mountains
Darkness shamed by light
And truth of respect given
For each step taken.
Rising up to break
This invisible energy thread
Unconnected adrift I move
As toes sink in cool green
Spinning world undetected
Yet so very real.
To walk into the fog
Peppered so gently
The softness of a misting rain
I hold loose as my hands
Ache from the carrying of weight
I open my palms to set free
The thoughts that moments before trod over me
And I ride effortlessly
Into the forest realm
With only the sound of breath
To fill the emptiness
To break the wave
Of silence.

Thoughts on the cool moss beyond the pond, of change, of again and the spirit of peace that being near earth, water, trees and silence brings forth to me. A sweet gift indeed. Lovely image found on Internet, no artist listed.