I burned my hand that day I touched the sun

But soothed it later cradling the moon,

Soft silver clouds became a healing balm

While starlit acupuncture numbed the wound.

A gentle zephyr kissed away the pain

As cool grasses played moist poultice there;

Elf owls hooted out a plaintive strain

That dryads come to render mending care.

Sweet denizens a shadowed vigil kept

As fireflies dispelled the waxing gloom,

Cicadas sang that I not feel bereft…

And in that grotto green, I felt at home.

The cosmos smiled and my heart swelled in mirth;

A child at peace in one grand universe.