I see an old tree still living green,
With dried brown bark covering it.
I swiftly sink into the luring smell of the blooms it bore, collecting the fallen golden leaves into my basket I roam.
The only place not invaded in the forest was this, its shade was only devoted to shadow my being.
Tired of the meaningful hunt, I sit there picking twigs and forming cones out of the parts that skinned off it.
Just ten-step away was a honey home, the residents hummed as they winged above hungry in nectar search.
I could spend my whole life here,
Here in the peaceful embrace of my very own illusionary space of being.
If only the karma was enough experienced to let go of things and if only my burdens of this human form ever cease to exist.