I hear the trees as instruments
as a Sunday hymn blessing Mother Earth
I feel the loaming heartbeat intense
while the birds call lullaby vespers
I am the tug of moon-pulled tides
with sermon words unfettered
Through and about the indigo skies I ride
Skyclad, adorned with galaxies and stars; together
I hear the forest’s deepest secrets kept
accepting its confessions as I should
with spells more true than of an adept
as a Priestess of the Howling Wood