Longing for Summer

I long for that vacant summer feel, for the evening breeze surrounding my face with contemplation, for the rustling of green leaves upon a hill, for the time of childhood, for games, for recreation. I yearn to return to your warm and sheltering mercy, Mother Earth, your embrace a consolation, to growth beneath the sun, your sweaty head dripping as the sea, to peace without shadow, without contention. As the seasons pass and fiercely rush anew, and the air is stilled within my rib cage, I shall raise a dry leaf, splashed with dew, and bless my coming to this age. For I have made you the mother of my pride, my dove, and I have grown with you all in sweaty musk. Perhaps this too is childhood, my love— from the sapling of my life, I remain just a trunk.