mountain range gives me shelter
from the rain, and tempest winds.
The serenity quinches my thirst,
fills me with sustenance--
with spirit that is nature, and a vastness of life.
I can live in dense growth of underbrush
and in mists of clouds. How small I am standing
there, how huge my heart grows as I see what is real.
The forests of the Smokies ground me as fast and hardas the old time revivals of my childhood. The creeks
cleanse me like baptismal waters until I am new.
The forests there give me strength I long for,
make me stand tall next to the elder oak
until I can stand alone without it’s shadow.
I’m a wanderer until I reach the foothills,
a seeker until I am home.
Note*: Forest Home was written for Peggy's prompt "Forest" over at Poetry Jam.