I press my nose to a
window sill, kissing nature
during a frosty chill, yearning
to run barefoot digging toes
within a murky soot.
Oh to feel a spring breeze upon my face
as angels in trees sing to me- as night falls,
hearing an echo during an owls
lunch break at night.
Mating hands with bark
during midnight, climbing
so high, that I can kiss stars
to feel alive again.
After my death- I will be in paradise
you will feel my spirit as an afternoon
rain falls, and you will experience a side
of me that people often ignore, as I grow
old, typing words upon a page that collects
moss and ivy- camouflaging my eternal dream.