Resting Place

In my own resting place,
I lie upon the burnt bark of an ancient tree!
Like a living human,
Rosy and green,
I bud on the branches of the old tree.
Beneath the thin skin of grasses,
And in the gentle touch of sensation, there is a dialogue.
In this eternal resting place,
And in the fragrant space of night,
Once again,
Sun and rain!
And I feel the power of love,
Which praise the moments.