Wise Oaks

Darling, the days pass
in cloudless ways
the drifting shadows
of the ancient trees
(they have loved
you for a thousand years)
-so that you may blend to sky
and give yourself
to her, in the breezes that
stir all hearts
to this bursting,
our humanity sings 
the same songs in the
sunny silence.


The blue heaven
alights to plant kisses
upon your forehead,
the cooing of butterflies
as they ascend from 
caterpillars- these
fair-winged ones
raise clouds of orange
and white into the 
skies, they know
you and this 
calm of being.


The sparkling
fibers of spidery
lines which connect 
each leaf to the next.
The silvery strands
which make caterpillar
and human one 
touch in a blaze of
nature and sleep in
whispering breaths
beneath the 
wise oaks.


(This sounds to idyllic, and too naive)