Desire

I crave the feeling of moist grass blades running between my fingers

And to feel the surface of a tree bark

I crave for droplets of mist settling on my skin

And beyond the hills, the sight of an arc.

I desire to walk bare foot on wet Earth

The mud clinging to my sole, while with each step I uproot

I desire to hear the sound of leaves beneath

As I grip the aged tree's naked root.

I wish to touch the passing cloud

And find stories in their shapes.

I wish to let my being aloud

And step into a heaven that awaits.