Mist Wakes Marula Trees

Mist wakes the Marula trees,

Shadows crawl onto my knees.

A leaf falls, falls,

slowly turns and rotates,

finding the earth.

Morning dew,

Drops,

A cool touch left on my skin.

Light makes its pattern on the old stones,

Grass brushes softly at a walker’s feet,

The air tastes sweet and fresh,

I hold my breath in a joyful daze.

Life stirs, 

eyes open for the land,

world still half asleep.

Distant drum plays.

The rhythm travels,

Travels.

Thoughts fade as senses rise,

The earth together, exhales.