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Whisper an inspiration,
Wind;
Blow me into motion.
Find me
in this concrete wreckage
they call city.
Reach from the woods,
if your arms this far extend,
and rejuvenate me
as you always have.
Like reverse kryptonite
I am weak away from you.
Nature is my sustenance.
The woods,
air to my smothered soul.
I loose track of who I am, here.
I loose track of what to do.
But there’s never any doubts,
when I’m wrapped up in you.
Alone, no one can hear my voice
but the trees,
and they never judge.
Running free among your pillars,
my fumbling steps
can leave no mark on you.
You are ancient, enduring.
In your shelter I can do no wrong.
On your soil, no cages stand.
I’m made of you,
my flesh just soil with a spark.
I am fed by your gifts,
and with you I will never die.
I will simply dissipate like smoke
to be absorbed
into the heaving, swaying sculpture
that my flesh and spirit
know as home.