Peace
soft snow
silencing
the land
in a blanket
of calm
a whispered
song, precious
and unheard
like the light
on our faces,
unnoticed,
unseen,
until we listen
outside
ourselves
until we look
to the sky.
Peace
soft snow
silencing
the land
in a blanket
of calm
a whispered
song, precious
and unheard
like the light
on our faces,
unnoticed,
unseen,
until we listen
outside
ourselves
until we look
to the sky.
Perhaps she
reclaims us now.
We, errant trees
who have walked
so far.
She says,
take the barriers
down between
you
and
I
and let my
fertile soil
hold your pale,
soft feet.
You are from
this land
and to
this land,
to every leaf
and mushroom,
you will return.
If we stop
movingĀ for a
moment and feel
the air in
our breath
we will know
it is not
our air nor
our breath.
She gathers
us back
to her now
to stand on
her soil and
grow roots
from our feet
and stretch our arms
to the sky
and once again hear
the true rhythm
we are.