The whole earth is singing–
I hear it,
I dance to it,
I add my own words when I have them–
mostly, I am quiet,
taking in the whispers of the tulip poplars,
the humming of the giant rain droplets on the long blades of grass:
orbs with tiny worlds in them–
the seasons change there, too.
I am a part of the changing season,
becoming something new,
growing rings farther from my core–
from what is safe and small–
and closer to the air I have yet to touch,
to dance in.
I am learning from the black oaks,
the hickories,
the wise giants with their careful, rhythmic swaying
and slow-reaching branches,
closer and closer each year
toward whatever they were born to want,
toward each other,
toward the sky
and the warmth of the sun.
6d ago
May 28, 2026 at 9:36 PM UTC
The whole earth is singing–
I hear it,
I dance to it,
I add my own words when I have them–
mostly, I am quiet,
taking in the whispers of the tulip poplars,
the humming of the giant rain droplets on the long blades of grass:
orbs with tiny worlds in them–
the seasons change there, too.
I am a part of the changing season,
becoming something new,
growing rings farther from my core–
from what is safe and small–
and closer to the air I have yet to touch,
to dance in.
I am learning from the black oaks,
the hickories,
the wise giants with their careful, rhythmic swaying
and slow-reaching branches,
closer and closer each year
toward whatever they were born to want,
toward each other,
toward the sky
and the warmth of the sun.
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