Stir

Do you feel the call of the garden
stir against you like a cat
damp with droplets shaken from
raspberries and alders?
Nestle and it slips into the cold
keenly to pace earthy paths,
sewn with soft needles.

Now it courses the spine of life
to slink among branches and bluebells,
to smell the lilies of the valley with a dirty nose and pause,
tasting the stars with a forked tongue.

Somewhere it is waiting,
atop mountain or beneath a rosebush,
to see if you will follow.

Feedback:
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/9h7pgp/someone_to_listen/e6adbyb/
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/9h8x77/what_it_takes_to_grow/e6a42k6/