Nestled in a woodland fortress,
I explored the soil in solitude.
Mind soaring over plentiful green
and scattered wildflowers.
Studying the terrain as one
prepares for blindness.
Remember to cross the carpet
of moss and pass the scent of mint,
just beyond the toad grove you enter
a protective retreat of spruce confusion.
Crafted skill of a fresh rain
stream to smooth clay and stone
or design the foundation for which I stand
a calm yet fierce erosion.
Not a swallow too high,
Grub too deep,
I planted my soul,
The earth to keep.
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