Man cannot roam the forest forever,
not anymore,
sooner or later
he must leave.

Take it with you.
Taking it in.
The green of laurel,
the leafless birch and oak,
the swaying pine,
now inside.
The heavens complete,
pressed against the crown of the skull.

Your deepest convictions
becoming stone,
unyeilding, strong,unmoving.
Your thoughts,
birds in fanciful flight.

Come into the conciousness
of deer,
their stamping hooves,
impressions,
in the meat of the mind.

Worms, insects, snails,
traverse your bones,
and deeper still,
sprouts and shoots,
mingling with marrow.

Now,
and only now,
can you be at peace
with yourself,
and become one with the world.