Marrow

trees – wreathed with lights
tiny lanterns pursuing darkness
licking the night with small tongues

grass – beaded with dew
prismatic eyes, I see whole worlds in them
they gush and cleave

stones – fathers of the forest
they know the tales of forgotten past
whispered soundlessly when we sleep

my rivers, full of memories
my mountains, guardians of the sky
my woods, I feel your roots in my marrow