dear wilderness, be at your best.
her armor is thin as the fabric of her dress.
i know the rules: the weaker trees bend.
when your temper storms in.
when she gains her balance,
be as still as you can be.
when she's climbing branches,
be the feathers underneath.
when she regains her balance,
be as steady as she needs.
when she trusts you blindly,
be her worthy lock and key.
every grain of your sand,
when she holds her balance,
be as gentle as she needs.
when she shines her brightest,
let no dark cloud intervene. More from Sleeping At Last