The Tree

I worship at the Temple Of The Tree;
that is the place my heart feels free.
Gaia Rocks my battered old soul;
it’s open air that keeps me whole.
Forest or seaside walking with Gaia;
nothing on earth can take me higher.

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
This entry was posted in Green Poetry, Life, nature, Spirit. Bookmark the permalink.

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