Breathe

The forest breathes.

Inhale.

And the cool air rushes into every bronchus

Coloured with the scent of rain

From just moments before.

And the teardrops on every lash glisten

And the streaky wetness beneath the eyes becomes cold

And the choked dampness dissolves

Into the soft wisps of verdant mist

Clinging to the grass

Spilling down.

Into the feathery strokes of titanium-white wind

Over the peaks

Rushing.

And the rotted cedar trunk smells of the earth

A sharp fissure of red ochre

Permeating the wet air.

And the damp moss glints with emerald green

And the roly-polies burrow into the wood

Where it is safe.

And the grass is wet and cold

And the earth drinks up the rain

And there is a dandelion quivering in the breeze

Beneath the weight of a raindrop

Yellow in the white fog

A sun on earth.

——

A note from the author:

The artwork I selected to go with this poem is Misty Forest by the wonderful Maya Bainbridge, a Denver-based artist and pilot (super cool combination, btw) who gave me permission to use the image for this post. You can check out more of Maya’s work at the link below!

Thank you for reading, and I'll see you in the next story!

– TYC