The measure of me.

When growth is measured by rings

And sun on the water mixed with wind causes a ripple effect

The curve of a rock implies it’s been weathered

And everywhere you look is hued - shade upon shade of green

When the absence of bark implies comfort’s been found

The crunch on the ground - a therapy of sorts

Breathe deep - it’s cleaner out here - or so they say

Goosebumps are now a sign - not of being cold - but of feeling whole.

The sound - The rustle - how does it convey peace?

Maybe it’s not escape but being present in the process

I don’t know where to look- I want to capture it - like a skipped rock - just skimming the surface -

Is that all it takes to feel a sense of freedom

Free like swaying trees - it’s like a dance - a show - one I get to be apart of

Surrounded by beauty — and just like those rings the measure of me grows