solitude

I love to live
in the wilderness,
where everything's
laid bare,
where the earth
becomes sky
in a parade,
without airs,
where trees meditate
upon the stillness
of a wind now tamed,
where a dewdrop rests
against the shoulders
of eternity, never slain,
where birds and bees
visit make-shift homes
on their timeless odysseys,
where the grass lies speechless
at the wonder of a world
that's always unfolding
in ways it can sense,
but never know,
where a lone wave curls
around itself
only to rush to a distant shore,
where my hands wrap
a throbbing heart,
pausing
to listen and to pray,
inviting the world
into my home
for yet another
welcome day.