Every sense alive, we make our way <br />Down the steep slope towards the rippled lake, <br />Brushing the foliage of multi-green <br />Abundant sage and grasses in our wake, <br />With daisies, mustard, brittlebrush and gold <br />Luring the purple butterflies that take <br />Our eyes towards the sky, where proud like gods <br />Of forests stand the redwood trunks that stake <br />The heavens to the soil beneath our feet, <br />Dropping their piney spices for our sake. <br /> <br />LRH <br />5.29.06<br /><br />Linda Hepner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/spring-temple/
