Oh sweet, enduring infant soul,
oh, calming reverie;
To walk with unashaméd step
on land that has no key.
A breath of life that comes from life
and echoes deep within;
An all consuming, knowing thought
that nature is my kin.
To reach and grasp and hold in hand
the effervescent light;
Of dancing trees and holiness
that triumphs over plight.
To lie on blades that do not cut
where war is long forgot;
In fierce disputes of tiny ones
a bullet never shot.
Oh tangled web of self import—
—Ants. They're made to feel;
Fret but little or not at all
enjoy, relax, and heal.
Oh, sweet, enduring infant soul
oh, calming reverie;
My life is touched by more than just
the things I think I see.
It was a… quiet English class when I read this out loud.
No appreciation for common meter… poetic photosynthesis… or clever little word play.
Also… “Fret but little?” Girl… 16 year old me fretted but lot…
Sending love through time and space for the version of myself that sat in the forest and noticed.
A Chance to Be
Meris Rosewick (2010)
