Then the ponderosa became wavy
and the sun wax
and the pine cone curled up beside me
and the bird song poured through my veins
and the soil danced anew
and the wind became breath and life
— I was the pine needle
— I was the light
And nothing was static
and nothing was separate
the sun became wavy
the ponderosa became wax
— I bled out light
— I bled out dance
