Walking amongst your favourite trees,
contemplating the ways of the forest, wild roses.
A softness has come to your soul recently,
so you take a moment to reflect, scheme a little.
Whispers from your Mother remind you of her,
even though she is not with you physically, whole.
A series of thoughts move your reflective mind,
so fast; you take a moment to catch up, process.
With no gesture, you turn a tree into a table,
then you turn another tree into a dishwasher, combo.
A wildness has come to the forest from the
commotion you created as you began experimenting, changing.
Wild consequences won’t be served up to
you, as you gave like for like to change the trees, a plant or two.
Another reflection leaves you startled as
a Cockatoo makes a racket, a Koala turns from you; it’s quiet.