The Grove.

The birds, the runes, the wind, the tunes,

I touch the water, feel the sand in the dunes.

Out of breath I tune in, to feel the air,

I disconnect into the one, outside my lair.

Breath gives me sparkle. It grows the branches.

Sparkle becomes the fire. Ignites the touches.

I grow as a tree, a being, omnipresent.

Of knowledge, I tune out. 

My leaves are my fruit. A Sage. I share my clout.