Where Feet Meet Ground...

Prompt 5 of our Piccadilly "Write the Poem" Challenge: A Tree

My legs,

my roots, 

where feet meet ground.

Toes wiggle

in tall grass,

soft, sweet

and all around. 

I breathe in the air,

fresh and serene,

and my hair shakes gently

like leaves in the wind, 

as I too am greeted by soft wisps

of nature's sweet flare. 

Dandelion seeds dance around me, 

wishes I often make,

but in the shade of the tree beside me,

I long for nothing

and simply exist,

rooted in the moment, 

in bliss.