He wasn't needy in any way of spiritual paths.
Amidst the forest, the two trees that represented
the fertility and infertility of the Earth.
He stared at nature's topless towers
until the night touched the tips of transcending
his plains of plenitude and bareness to higher realms.
Surrounded in a definition.
Flooded was he in his colorful aura.
I felt no strength.
His trees would sing to him and didn't pay.
Why?
I journeyed with him on occasion.
His teachings were useful in bushels.
There in his story he spoke of the Lazarus in
the temple of personal higher-selves.
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