How I need a Climbing Tree
To return to the ancient natural sanctuary
To watch the moon swinging through the clouds ballet-slamming by
And breathe in that sweet smell amplified by the foggy night
I slurp rain water off the garden's grass, soothing my esophageal fire-path
And with the blood of the sky on my face I shimmy up through the branches with a loving embrace
To the best seat for the nighttime symphony and the ancestor's cloud parade
The sirens howl, but the leaves clash louder
And as they drown, they are bid farewell by the roar of cricket laughter
How I long to dance barefoot on wet grass
In celebration of the riddance of the sorrows of the past
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