I must be young, to find shades of green such as this.
Naiads and birch shadows, silken white, rushing in,
To laughingly bat at my aura.
My hearty companion and I, flowing,
Have suddenly cast off the shackles.

I've fallen into the breathing of the trees,
That gentle murmur rocking sideways all the clouds.
Dead wood offers no warmth, but that's okay,
It's all inside me, carried on spring inhalations,
Matching the pulse of the universe.

Two pairs of eyes with straw-golden threads,
You sense tonight we have touched our realities.
I'm not looking for perfection any longer.
A duchess and her jester, their court at my feet,
Silly little fur-phantoms, just out of reach.

I know now that alone is my choosing.
Icy air splashing past my eyes,
The indifference of life, unbound, still-grounded.
Nature has beckoned me back, lures me to sleep,
Tells tales of gray-blue skies brushed with silhouette.

A jester, still a gentleman,
My tiny escort out of this world.
Comical orange glider, my white rabbit, I suppose.
He sees me to the door,
To waiting light of a different breed.

Somehow I have found what I wanted.