bereft

Each day that I am separated
from your mystery
settles another hard layer
across the raw wound

Each day that I can’t share
the air under your trees
tightens the sinews already
rock hard down my spine

I need to bruise my soles
on your roots

I need to lie face down
smelling your living earth
running my fingers through the grass
rolling to gaze at clouds across the blue
hearing the cries of birds
too high to see

Lost to me, nature is lost to me
I am sick
bereft