I laid with nature
Nothing occurred to me
I divined no lesson in the stars
The stark trees, the brooding oak, spoke no truths, no words at all
They only sat and loomed
I heard no prophecy in the space between trunks
No parables materialized
So I communed in the ranks of existers
Appreciative
Though impatient
I laid with nature
In the cold
On the grass
By the trees
Under the speckled night
With the calm air that ruffled stark branches and whistled quietly
None was spoken
Not from the heavens neither by the earth nor out of this tongue
I laid with nature
Nothing occurred to me
That was alright.
The Wise Ry Guy 