The sound of the city a bustling hum
that has no wings no earthy smell
no rustling leaves no mossed-up trees
no puffed-up mushrooms to cushion things
Where is my bounty in this concrete town
no winds of serenity to capture my wings
no comforting breezes refreshing my soul
no calmness of life in the flywheel of things
No sustenance rich to feed the land
no silence pure no lushness grand
no glorious fragrances to pass the hours
no nature’s symphony no dancing flowers
But the forest prime eden it brought me back
its inviting sweetness that soft solid ground
its manifold textures in life’s complexness
the colors of life right here to be found
Mushroom umbrellas with mosses in tow
this grandeur of goodness my gentle salvation
the trees ever lovely the years they have seen
their rustling entreaties their vanguard bright green
My respite to peace my spirit untethered
the call to return to my wings newly feathered
cocooned in their sageness their powerful pulses
my heartbeat resounding to nature’s pure soundings
The oaks are my skyscrapers the mosses my blanket
the mushrooms’ umami starts feeding my soul
the world of my reverence in nature’s sanctorum
singing its song and making me whole
This precious paradise of my world full
calling me calling me with its sweet pull
its music my pathway to myself
the cushions and comforts of the forest itself.
By Judith Ellen Sanders
Judith Ellen Sanders is a writer and painter with a background in science. Her poetry has been published in the New York Times, Tiny Seed Literary Journal, Inscape Magazine, For Women Who Roar, and the Origami Poems Project, among others. Her website can be found at: https://judithellensanders.com/