purge

she wants more out
of this life
something real, tangible
sure as the sun rises
and the moon sets,
she is there for both

she moves with the wind
in the trees, the beat of rain,
roll of thunder
rhythm of tides

she enters the shade
of wood without fear
or trepidation
the ground soft
her bare feet absorbing
the rooted tentacles
beneath her

the cool of shade
heat of filtered sun
breathing in the sweet scents
of earth,
here she is free
to run wild
picking berries,
mushrooms,
twining flowers in her hair
rinsing off in cool waters
that flow in streams

this is where she rejuvenates
her soul,
not the sky, wind,
the birds
or trees
question the vitality
of her free spirit