Fluffy white clouds
Scattered as far as the eye can see.
Will stepping into a foreign land
bring you closer to home?
Each rock,
Each ivy, each moss
Wet to the touch,
Smelling of sweet earth
Tempts you to stay.
The pitter patter
Of rain soaked rocks
Are lightning bolts,
Illuminations— footsteps.
Lighting the path to the luscious grove,
Den of lichen,
Filled with soft chanting
“Come away.”
The pitter patter of rain
Soaks your socks
As you wade through the pool
And become the one,
Watching the next few
Read their poems.