Perhaps you had to be there
that day at the edge of the forest
to know how my heart sang
at the trilling of the birds and
the sunshine on thimbleberries,
their gritty sweetness delighting
the memory of my tongue.

A stinging nettle prickled my arm
as I reached for ripe berries,
and even this made me laugh
for the remembrance of being little
in the forest.

With that familiar scent of sunshine
poured on green growing things,
that beautiful sky tickled by whispy tree tops…
oh the memory of being young, so young, in the forest!
Alive with joy, my heart flying with nostalgia,
a simple silly madness
that made everything wonderful.