Foggy Mornings

Foggy morning

Tall grass

I lay awake

Raindrops covering my face

My roots grow to the sky

As I lie

Reaching to the God I can not see

Foggy morning days

Chill my bones

Foggy morning days

Call me home

And I dare not resist

Naked

I wondered

How embarrassing must it be

To be naked

Outside

Like this tree

She has no shame

Not one bit

And she claims

That she had lived

A thousand and one

Days under the sun

Naked

Happy

And Free

I wondered how great it would be

To be naked like that tree

Grandma’s chicken

“He’s… He’s like grandma’s chicken”

The Magic

I stopped, once

To smell the roses

The bees protested my presence

The Child

She paints her mirror colors she wishes to see

Modern Problems

There sits a child talking to a tree

About the long day and how things turned out to be

…And as I talked to her-the tree

She humbly smiled and replied to me:

-“This green was of concrete, paved so harshly to stop my growth.

 Little I was, hungry for the sun at birth.”

She leaned down as she whispered to me.

Then I thought about my broken nail, my missing shoe, the lost signal, the text I couldn’t send you

Things that ruined my day

They were not concrete in my way!

So I dust off my skirt, with one shoe on

I go back inside my comfortable home

Thankful for how things turned out to be

See sometimes when you’re upset, all you need is a talking tree!