DIAS DE AGOSTO

The deer trail is more still than quiet
Scents becoming louder than vision
Eyes close in deep temple breath

There is no more beautiful rain
than forest mist
Sprigs of fog that are at once
barely seen barely felt
Bundled moss like hyssop soaked
in holy
flicked with urgent intent
soft wet sprays make clothes
my nakedness
A baptism that fills my lungs
with the spirit I belong
(Girard Tournesol, Forest Spirit)

Inspired by a photo with the same title by Ana Rivero.