are we the forest

 crawling along ever so fast,
measure of speed unrelated to how crooked legs slumped.
held a body above patterns reminiscent of Giacometti 
remembering what was spoken 
“you can watch the sunrise”
sodden air 
the dark cannot decipher whether  rain
or mist around our stature is fluffed as a waterbed, 
clattering feet the rise and fall of elm grove.
mating calls, breaking air,  a night that desired all but rest 
the way things appear  illusionary when the linear measure of rest 
falls on the smaller spirit level,
sky burns brighter, 
faces fade in and out of focus 
kaleidoscopic.
which would assume less attention to detail would be paid, 
yet a shift in focus beacons a deeper focus a juxtaposition in real “time”
the trees hands now waving, 
excited at the prospect of your return 
a symbiotic friendship, 
kinship
an immeasurable bond. 
between particles and what was thought of as time
breath a memory of what is to come
and what is truly life in full unravel 
secrets in leaves,
sky brazen with promise, 
laughter tells all so well akin to an agreed uttering. 
the leaves whisper 
becoming swallowed in expanse of all that ever was, 
for a brief moment 
pleasant to feel beautiful 
euphoric to feel it has little to do with blinking eye.
I make videos and stand still for pictures sometimes and I post the majority on my Instagram @snailcoma and my TikTok which is also @snailcoma I enjoy writing and thinking about nature. The only reason I’m around is because I practice gratitude in small doses consistently throughout the day, if there’s beauty in a cup of tea or a biscuit there’s bound to be some in you too, regardless of if you can see it.
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