The forest animals hear me crying,

they surrender their deepest fears and sorrows,

they whisper to me to be silent, be still,

to pour the noise and fear and cruelty

into the radiant trees,

like a pitcher of milk,

in the hands of a grandmother,

who lives only to comfort me.

all of my boiling insides,

churning now, into dancing

lights and shadows,

the sun clapping its hands,

and laughing,

the trees forming a circle around me,

protecting me,

from the winter winds,

they are my brothers,

my sisters, with me

on the edge of the grand stage.

Of all the scents and sounds and feelings,

everything is a sea of hues and shades,

the forest animals hear me laughing,

out of that dark nest where I hide,

they laugh and dance,

and pull my hair,

they wave their magic batons.