While playing with three black cats which crossed his path,
standing in the full brunt of a straight-line Reiki wind,
waiting for an emoticon spaceship whose lights twirl
like the smoke tendrils from exhaled dragon’s breath, he loves us.
Excluding the bwoks from chickens or barks from dogs,
fifty quiet acres surround a gentle heart. While sitting
outside yesterday (or any other day) with head tipped back
watching trees…he loves trees.
But, he is not a person who would hug a tree,
(I am sure fir and pine needles danced in the breeze)
gazing at the trees he realizes how he had it backward,
the trees were hugging him; (gee) it was quite a moment.