Feel the breeze-noise and bird-talk, she said.
Smell the twitch of foliage, feathers rustling
alert hair follicles to the march
of soil dwellers and flight acrobats.
Taste the air flow, catch
sunlight on your tongue.
Through skin-pores absorb skin-bark
and leaf mould, textures of fiddleheads.
Breathe in charcoal-squeak, silence
of ink-flow, scratch of graphite
and oil pastel resistance
interrupting paper grain.
Mediate whilst mark-making.
But please don’t draw the trees.
