Every sense alive, we make our way br Down the steep slope towards the rippled lake, br Brushing the foliage of multi-green br Abundant sage and grasses in our wake, br With daisies, mustard, brittlebrush and gold br Luring the purple butterflies that take br Our eyes towards the sky, where proud like gods br Of forests stand the redwood trunks that stake br The heavens to the soil beneath our feet, br Dropping their piney spices for our sake. br br LRH br 5.29.