Here

There are remnants here, buried under sediment and stone.
Remnants of stories, none of which my own.
I can hear them in each crunch of leaves,
taste them in each breath I breathe.
The sun beats, I feel my skin recoil.
While my feet laugh, cool in the soil.
The trees hug me tight to their breast,
a harmony of chaos, a toppled nest.
There are remnants here, dents in my skin.
Where I let the bark press, until the light was dim.
Begging for just one more minute of feeling tethered,
secure in the ground, be it resilient and weathered.
Raindrops graze my face, like a kiss on the cheek.
A reminder I need, that I come here to seek.
My trees,
hold me in your arms a moment longer.
Allow me to release, allow me to ponder.
And I will exhale as the sky grows clear,
for when I am here, I am truly here.