Placing one foot in front of the next,

The Clarity of Emeralds

Placing one foot in front of the next,

She travels down the deserted

Paths of crisscross pine-needle patchwork

That snake across the forest floor.

She pauses as orange leaves circle in a downward spiral,

Twisting with the gentle breeze around her

Like the warm embrace of origin, of tacit familiarity.

Listening closely, this unknown sanctuary

Has deafened her to the grinding mechanics

Of humanity’s ticking watch.

As her identity floats away with white dandelion seeds,

The wood whispers her name,

The roaring waterfall sings her story,

And the creaking boughs of giant redwood trees

Reveal ants moving the earth

And those who ignorantly destroy it.

Disappearing into a cloudy haze

Of the green and crimson pallor of the earth,

She breathes what has yet to be stained by her kind,

Burying herself in black velvet soil

As she gazes upon purity with the clarity of emeralds.