The dry leaves chime, still clinging to the broken branch
“It was once my time and it still is”
“The mission has changed and it will change”
Photosynthesizer, shade bringer, soil maker.
The dry leaves chime, as they float to the ground
“And there will be loss along the way.”
“and there will be places we return to that will not look the same. Not ever”.
“The magic we knew, it’s different now”
The damp leaves chant, softened by their earthly landing
Dirt, skunk musk, soil
Decay, cycle, renew
The ground knows what to do with pain
Its okay to be tired, you probably need to rest
Let the earth hold you for this work that you do
Let her let you in
I am going to lie down now
Less alone then I feel. Golden grass hair.
Green fingers rustle underneath, insistent life
Soon enough the buds always reach their breaking point and burst forth- sweet, diligent and new.
Soon enough we too will emerge from our isolation, and greet the world and each other a little closer
All in good time. All in good time.
7 magpies steady themselves on the bare arms of poplar.
Dropping their long tails, a ballast, gleaming teal in the muffled sun.
I sit, back to back with a tree, and feel my own balance and breath return.
My hand sticks to the red drips, amber healing, sap bleeding from the woodpecker wounds, openings.
The earth croons.
She says to me.
It’s okay to be sad, you need to grieve
Allow your tears.
Let me hold you
I kneel at the altar of the first crocus, they seem abundant this year.
Each bloom a bold celebration buffeted by the prairie wind - a reminder I did not know I needed
Braving the start of spring, in her soft warm gown, I feel her hand in hand with mycorrhiza. Symbiot. Circle Cycle
Let me in,
Inside subalpine sedimentary crack, I take shelter from the wind,
Above me, Whitebark Pine and mountain heather hold the rocky talus slope in place, a hard earned ecosystem on an inch of dirt.
Earthly tether to rock bottom
Let her let me enter
The green leaves sing, bursting from their broken bud
“Decay, cycle, renew.”
“Let me hold you”