You pull me into your mystery—

Your cool, damp, pine-needle-littered oasis.

The secret of your mountain top revealed,

Only if I dare to tread there.

With bears, and wolves, and mountain lions.

I long to lie down in your mossy softness—

To breathe the wind that blows through your branches,

Where raindrops fall to drench my thirst…

For silence,

For beauty,

For scattered, bone-warming sunshine,

For unraveling secrets that haunt my being,

I can let my tears flow deep into your earthen bosom.

The Earth, my Mother, cradles me here.

Restore me, gentle spirit—

It is here that I call home.

~

Author: Monika Carless

Image: Flickr/Jon Bunting; Author’s own

Editor: Yoli Ramazzina