You surround me with ears breathing
I hold you out in a widening ring
Closing down dark in a sacred circle
I draw one growing thing
The high sky of the blowing world
Shrinks to a spinning blue
Reverie corrals a billion souls
Chanting the one word, "You"
Is this escape or capture?
My thumbs remember trees
My fingers point to blossoms
We walk inside these old, deep
woods toward new springs
© Nowick Gray