Joyful Ruins

I seek companions

who notice the stars

Those Wildflowers investigators

and wondered-eyed bug observers

Companions who pause to watch

a bird

a snail

who stand in awe as they look up at any tree

Who trace the edges of a cloud

marveling at the mastery

These kindred spirits are of my kind

living quietly among the trees

And honestly

at times they are

The hawk itself

the babbling stream

I feel connected

to that which is made of flesh at times

But soil too

Rooted deep

Those are the companions for me