Once a disturbance in the forest,
Pounding nails to hold its structure
Sanding edges to make it flush, crisp, sleek, perfect
“Sit here”, “no sit here”, they each begged.

Timid twigs crackling with curiosity
“Who is this foreigner”, they wonder.
Leaves playing peek-a-boo
Not bold enough,
Comfortable enough,
Courageous enough,
Audacious enough
To expose themselves.

Invisible fingers eager to touch
One big gust is enough to familiarize,
Each breeze bringing more rubble, debris, pebbles, dirt
To welcome this stranger.

Hundreds of chirps later,
From every type of bird you can image,
Ripples later,
From even the smallest feather landing in the pond
Shadows later,
From the transition of the sun from east to west,
No one has any secrets.

Once a disturbance in the forest,
Now one that sits among them,
Blending in with time,
Becoming one with nature.