in the wet of the forest.

It is my green desire
to go dreaming about
in the wet of the forest,
to merge with the green,
to play by the nutmeg
and the brown timber,
I see some marks of
Carpenter’s axe, sharp
like wound cuts
the tender sun hides ,
like a coy bride behind
the clouds, it rains , rains,
the green earth absorbs all
water into the fissures,
woody green shade is
like a jade of protection
for the needy and helpless,
I play in the wet of times.