Ancient Endless
The wet dark hair on my head tingles and warms,
while on my face the shadow shifts from light to dark
and back again scenting deep woods lake water strawberry ferns
and linden my path winds through glacial stones,
newts clamber under and berry brambles
Can you hear that?
Hemlock trees.
Endless ancient circles ripple out
from quiet spring melt drip drops
off the roots into the water
Jurt Heim