In the middle of sun-rays interspersing,
I imagined conjuring stories and
Singing soft songs to the needles and leaves.
I meant to sweep the earth for my strength,
But I found lounging was way more appealing.
Chipmunks chattered and skittered, their sounds punctuating
My inhales. I made sure to exhale, too,
In case they wished to punctuate that as well.
Woodpeckers knocked as if someone determined were at the door.
Birds twittered and fluttered, leaving me silent,
Wondering what flight would taste like,
High up in the sky with clouds and God’s breath.
I’d like to say I spiritually traversed miles
While gazing at trees,
Lounging doesn’t get you anywhere.
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