Joyful Ruins

I seek companions

who notice the stars

Those wildflower 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 their mastery

These kindred spirits

are of my kind

living quietly among the trees

and honestly

sometimes they are

the hawk itself

the babbling stream

To feel connected

to that which is made

of flesh at times

but soil, feather, and water too

rooted deep

Those are the companions for me