Who says the trees have no tongues?
when I walk by,
their speech, the fallen foliage, crisp and christening -
They see, affirm the oath of long ago,
among the humble orchids, I'm led to fire. They teach
me of the Godhead. They
teach me not to
It's not luck but mystery beneath my
that grows so
I am tracking, arrow straight, paving now, rough though it goes,
against a pale but valiant sky.
There's light enough, and I am native.
warn that dead is the deed, and triumph lies in words, but the
died and then came alive
and calmed the storm,
so I lay down depth
and sweep in depth's returns.
What man rules here?
for a better view,
and the mountains move.
In the city where the flowers waft plain and pure, I dot my wrists
and offer up my birthright. In the distance,
there's an outline, and I call.
I'm out of
healed from the wound
that caused me stumble,
free to dance,
free at last.
Write at the Merge