The columns of the forest lift
the vaulted canopy.
I walk down below on the trail
that parts understory.

Each step through the loam brings me home
to barefoot days of yore.
When I thought nothing of placing
skin to the forest floor --

while letting the woods become me
as I grew into it;
I would yield my identity.
To nature, I'd submit.

And in a walk, I did become
everything and nothing,
falling into a peace at once
humbling and stunning.