Foraging

I'd traverse barefoot if I could
wandering aimlessly through the wood
picking dandelions as I roam
following the river's stone

yarrow softens my winding path
birds sing on my behalf
as I spy on the bashful trout
coveting their secret route

I caress the submerged reeds
swaying where the water leads
brisk, this melted snow
invites me into it's flow

lichen clouds adorn my sky
and cushion me where I lie
to gather up scattered clover
enchanted by their Composer

into the meadow at last I run
to taste the sweet kiss of sun
picking a berry here and there
heavenly gems my earthly fare

and the ponderosa beckon again
calling me back from where I've been
I rest against their bark and brawn
wondering where the day has gone

shaded by the endless pine,
the forest's breath becoming mine,
I cry out just to share
the wildness that brought me there

--Allison M., Adult