A God

In a blissful land, I walk.
I step on freshly wet soil
And the smell of thankfully-kissed dirt
Can be gently tasted.
The humid breeze licks the tender skin
Upon my body;
So warmly, so affectionately.. it cries.
And among the silence of living,
I can hear the trees smiling,
And amid their friendly leaves
Rises a prayer for the scandalous harmony.
My feet are the first to touch the richness beneath,
My eyes the first to see this wonder pure,
My palms the first to sense the rawness of the old wrinkled tree.
And the road is sweet.
And the road is empty.
I am my own lonesome god.