Beneath the Willow Tree

The sense of calm floods my body.
The dreariness, and long of sleep.
Oh how warm and safe I feel.  
In this spot beneath the trees.

The clearing is quiet.
Only the faint sound of a stream of water washing over the rocks and leaves. 
The trees tower over me strong and silent.
Tall and short.

The willow trees' long wispy leaves stretch over me offering shade on the forest floor.
Her leaves rustled in the gentle afternoon breeze.

The black-tipped spider orchids waved their skinny arms as they danced upon the grass
Their rare beauty sparkling in the sun.
Pink and black, white and purple are the colors that meet my eye
And yet I know so much more lies inside

The blades of grass are long and tall like brave soldiers defending their beautiful land.
Maybe it's the golden sun on my back that makes it feel special.
Maybe the creek that runs through the land, like a scar of brilliant blue.
Possibly the wind whistling over me.
Brushing the deep brown soil over my toes from the patch of the earth beneath the willow tree. 

The spider orchids sing their silent songs 
Oh how small they are nestled in the earth
There are only a few
And yet, their beauty is much more

As I stare up at the green leaves of the willow tree turning a golden brown 
It stares back at me like a wise Grandmother.
Opening its wrinkled and splintered arms.

I let it cradle me.
Back and forth back in forth.
Till I’m rocked to sleep.
Dreaming of a simpler world where nothing goes extinct