Laid bare I reach for curling 

green leaves, damp and unfurling 

in my tenuous grip.

Life’s detritus blankets my toes

 as I dig deep and lose myself

in sensory delights of smell and

touch and sounds so small that 
I begin to feel again.
Deep breaths, eyes closed…
Love leaches in through branch and twig
til it finds me curled tight
as bud. Safe. Warm.
Wrapped in wonder.
(Lar MacGregor)