I am
Granite
Moss
Grain
Ocean
River
Rain

Hacked and carved
from blue grey granite
cloaked and cushioned in moss

the deep dug roots of twisted trees
reach down in the dark of my bones

ocean air bends branches down
clutching at my hair,
but still, I am not there.

Aware of the flow of rivers,
the wide slow curve of the river,
through green and rolling hills,
I am swept away to another place
to rest in fields of grain.

My spirit wanders far from home.
I fall in summer rain