The Feast

My heart and feet just wander out here among the trees;
no plans or destination, they go just where they please,
and I find with every footfall it all becomes more clear;
what I should push away from and what I should hold near.
Gaia’s here, I see her in every blade and leaf and bough,
she welcomes me with open arms, into the here and now.
The wind that brushes past my face; a gentle kiss I know
is her expressing her true love – part of the rhythm’s flow.
Though I rug up against the wind, I love it all the same;
without old Gaia’s wildness the world would be so tame.
And as my feet do kiss the ground and beat out rhythmic sounds
I relish that I can take this path; this feast of what abounds.

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About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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