Symbiotic acceptance of surroundings

Within a walkabout of my precursory life

No longer hindered by foolish intention

Yet buoyed by new relevance

Witnessed not with eyes

But with humility

Majestic trees of the forest

Tall spirits they stand

Whispering unknown melodies

As the boughs transcend

Leaves caressing my soul

As my ink compose

Like moaning cellos forgot

Hearing darkness howling obsidian

Wuthering ghosts of Aberdeen

Talking to long past friars

And dead monks rising

The cries of imperial redwoods

Noble spires seeking the outer edges of heaven

Rooted in soil, bearing caskets

Kneeling to men less than God

In a freakish dance of death

Merciless in the emptiness left within me