Licensed CC0/Public Domain.
We retreat to this rain-soaked forest,
surrounded by the sighs of ancient cedar
and the soft murmur of fern’s moist lament,
the shrill of yesterday’s business stilled
by the baritone glow of the fire’s ember,
Here our breathing sings as mountains make song,
bright melody scattered in a motley of leaves, steady
percussion of rain on the tin roof, thin reeds
of wind in the orchestral trees. Orchestration,
harmonic with our being here, an adagio
tucked into a pause of the green sonata.
