The Scene

As the supreme genius of
choreography she has no peer
reigning unchallenged
the undisputed queen of all
she surveys. Pleased no
doubt with her own inventive
solutions to achieving perfection.
And perfection is precisely
how the forest, nestled at
the base of the formidable
mountain, streaming an
endless libation over its own 
granite flanks, coursing through
the valley below to the rivulets
running through the verdant
steaming forest, presents. The
moist, sweet fragrance of
petals unfurling on dogwood
woodland violets, bunchberry
crowding the forest floor
waft in the atmosphere. 
Yellow Admirals floating lazily
on breezes freshening the air
robins and thrushes bursting
with the joy of birdsong
their high notes leavened by
the baritone murmur of the
stream rushing to a loud
crescendo racing and bursting
with frothy spume over
mountain-hurled boulders.