from Logan Airport .... to Portsmouth, NH: A poem written on a bus

One of my very favorite things on this earth
is green trees
moving - rustling -
in the wind.

The green speaks to of LIFE
vitality, freshness.
It makes me want to take
deep breaths
and to settle into a state
of just being.

The wind speaks of something
utterly outside of me.
It reminds me of how small
I am -
of how little control I truly have.
And at least a this moment,
it makes me want to
curl up and take more deep breaths.

I wish I could become the tree.
I wish my arms would sprout branches,
and grow leaves,
so I could feel the wind rustle me,
so I might know the wind
deep in the marrow of by bones.


Maybe then I could breathe.