So Free, The Wild

So free, the wild.

The running brook,

its flowing miles

gave what I took

to survive these trials.

Your towering trees,

reaching ever so high,

pointed skyward, divine.

The Wild’s blessing tonight.

Bless me in the light.

Filtered gently through

brook-water and pine.

I’m fine when I look

through the light

of the brook

and take its cool

water inside.

© CGT, 2018.

Blogging Poetry

Obol View All →

Obol is a poet and an infrequent writer of prose.

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