Sticky, Hot, Lush, Dense

I remember the relief 

once we entered the forest,

a homecoming of sorts.

Sticky, hot, lush, dense.

Bugs and bears.

A few miles up, a few miles down

with creek crossings in between.

It’s as sweet as it’s always been 

yet different each time.

Like growing intimate with one 

who shares the same rhythm. 

A pulsating of appreciation.

The merging of light, 

an energetic dance 

until the blaze burns

brighter than before.

So, I did what I do best~

spin with joy, 

fall to my knees in awe, 

and breathe.

Deep, soul drenched breaths.

Surely, through this breath, 

this bridge from her world to mine,

the forest touches 

my very root system.

Tracing our mirroring patterns 

like a tattoo, 

ancient and woven with light.

Sticky, hot, lush, dense.

Same patterns, shared spaces 

as the bugs and the bears,

the creeks that we cross,

the ones that we bring to our lips.

By looking back at these images,

we bend down,

cup our hands, 

and, once more, take a sip.