Yearning

I yearn for a house in the country,
wild, dancing fields of grass,
full moon darkness of a pine forest at noon,
scent of dampness from the laughing brook's bank.

I yearn for the big dog
silently shadowing, pacing through fields of horses, my children waiting on the other side;
where I can be naked, my hair bathed in starshine,
feet anointed with the morning mist.

I yearn for a home in the depths of the country.
Hush listen:
twittering birds, rutling leaves,
kissing of wind on gentle, smooth skin,
happy in nature's household.