Fragile creatures crawl
silver trails of moist meanderings.
I am the music of rain
bouncing on leaf trampolines.
A gentle percussion.
A verdant carpet of moss
cushions your cinnamon slumber
as with each breath
I am inhaled, immersed.
My heart arrested.
And then. I live again.
as you exhale a dream
of birdsong and falling leaves.
All things are possible
I can write the sound of green.
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