One - a poem of presence


I stood...


And the trees seemed to

wrap their arms

around me...

Green feathers of the forest

tickling my attention

into stillness.

Rooting into the soft, muddy, earthy floor,



I grew...

wrapped in the woody embrace.


Rock by my root's foot.

Breeze floating through

lacy boughs of hair...

softly rustling water

flowing like blood in my veins.

Ram casts a glow at my crown.





~Joni Sturgill