"In the Grass, Under the Tree"

A bare foot touches the grass.
Coolness is the welcoming touch.
The other foot meets the green
And excitment builds.
---
The world is still and silent.

The only sound is the crunching leaves.

Pale feet push down the grass into small prints

On their way to some special place

---

The spot is reached.

A tree, large and graceful, stands above.

The smell of pine creeps into the air,

Welcoming all to come and enjoy.

---

The feet stop moving and take a rest.

The back is rested against the trunk.

The head tilts up,

Peering into the fathoms of branches above.

---

It starts with a drip.

One small drop touches the arm and

Brings down a torrent of coolness,

Breaking the surrounding peace.

---

The feet should move,

Should run to safety,

They should leave this place

And return at some other hour.

---

But this was the purpose in coming.

To feel the water and hear the splash.

To leave the confines of walls and move

To the openness of the sky.