in poetry

until i remember

until i remember,
i will walk as a guest in this place.
until i breathe that stillness in to my heart,
until i sing with the morning chorus
and know of what it speaks.
until the soles of my feet fall soft and slow,
soft and slow, soft and slow.
until the sounds i make do not stir those above me.
until i see as the wild eyes of the oak see.
until i surrender and let the vines creep in.
until the forest breathes easy in my presence,
i will forever be a guest here,
seeking a home.

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