When I am happy, I walk in a forest of light.
The leaves flutter in a gentle breeze.
The trails are ready for me to explore.
This vision comes to me when I need it.
It’s a way to know that I am home.
In my forest, its seedlings stretch tall.
In the spring, their roots grow strong.
Their leaves come but for a time.
I rake my yard during chilly fall afternoons.
I pile the leaves to turn them to mulch.
At home, what I find is love.
A cradling hand keeps me safe.
My hope comes from above.
I can stay here and never cry.
I am where I belong today.
William Wayne Smith