Between each step
pressing into the ground
the soil welcoming
the effort of going forth
into the wilderness of your thoughts
the meditation of these trees
grounded in a summer that never sleeps
reaching into sun-rays to survive
a winter that barely wakes
Between my feet
is the voice of a land
growing past the sea
gently pushing upwards
past the breeze of time;
my body barely sensing it,
but thinking
along with its rise.
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