22 July 2010

A View from a Hammock

oh, to float
suspended in air, looking up
into the birches, arching above
feeling the sway, the rustling whisper
the breeze on my skin, caressing my hair

blue and grey, the swirling sky
just a dream beyond, so far above
beyond these leaves, these whispering veils
both cocoon and ocean, closed in yet free

oh, to float
in flow given form, in stillness reborn
in the wood's silent roar, the gentlest of storms

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