Walking in the foreign forest, lost but for a shallow slithering path snaking, along the mulched floor. Stalking through greenery higher than my head, overgrown weeds, now competing with the trees. Bunches of brambles clawing at my knees. Faint through the foliage, daylight drip dip drops down, down like the rain.
Vines descend continuous, thick cables of natures crane.
Constructing with a power that leaves no unnatural stain, It is our only sun, and wind, and rain. Cool close mist eliminates every distance, two oaks forward is far as the eye can see. Feeling far from home, feeling far from alone. Someone who is everyone no one strides along with me. A prescient presence gazes upon my face, if God had only one true temple, it would surely be this place.