Essence

 

Blue green 

Yellow serene

Blissful pristine

This ring in my being

Wind from the forest

Speaking in chorus 

I hear you 

And every so often

You visit again

From your far away 

Yet so close land

The wind blows 

And familiarity echoes

Your voice

Suddenly

In clear proximity

You appear

Like you were always here 

Like looking in a mirror

And recognizing the sheer

Essence of self

 
 
Tyra Vassallo