"there's an oracle in the soil" said wren
We found him the man made of clay,
His eyes full of centuries
His cracked lips ushering words sprouting when the wind leaned close.
A rooting fig tree compared to the greenery and foliage around him
The hill I used to wonder
Eartha against earth and unwavering thoughts he rests.
He spoke with riddles I was too small to carry
He spoke with profound poise
Prying the boundaries of earths patterns
Speaking more volume than the wind ever did. No tools no bones of history
Only a mouth of moss
And a mind fettered with lichen
Come, prophet of mother
Show me the worlds tantrums and virtues
For the foundation of philosophy is structured by her maternal arms
Oct 25, 2025
Oct 25, 2025 at 12:59 PM UTC
"there's an oracle in the soil" said wren
We found him the man made of clay,
His eyes full of centuries
His cracked lips ushering words sprouting when the wind leaned close.
A rooting fig tree compared to the greenery and foliage around him
The hill I used to wonder
Eartha against earth and unwavering thoughts he rests.
He spoke with riddles I was too small to carry
He spoke with profound poise
Prying the boundaries of earths patterns
Speaking more volume than the wind ever did. No tools no bones of history
Only a mouth of moss
And a mind fettered with lichen
Come, prophet of mother
Show me the worlds tantrums and virtues
For the foundation of philosophy is structured by her maternal arms
I wrote this for a competition! Glad to share it with you all
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