Jade mist dances with tendrils, smokey and torn,
Clinging to grit-strewn, sandstone curves;
Hips and hearts, carved by a pewter tide.
On land, the sanguine mists entwine gnarly limbs;
Heavy with moss and lichen,
As ancient, mycological sages weave their intricate wisdom, like weft, Into the forest floor.
Moss & Stone 