Soft Sounds

The humming of the winged

the drumming of the creek

a rustle of pine

an upwell of sweet honey suckle divine

Can you hear it?

The earth only speaks in soft sounds

calmly reminding us

calling our names;

isn’t this your home?

In the humble womb of possibility

I announce my heart:

an offering,

a prayer.

And she replies in the whisper of wind,

the ringing of sun baking the soil.

Softly

softly

softly

I listen.

Opening Now

An egg within a shell, within the river

is opening now.

The free and the good sticks out a toe

to test the flow.

The temperature feels fine, so the toes dip

in time, and then two arms, a heart, and a mind.

There’s a birthing, a shifting, a merging.

The river carries the shell to the shore where it grows algae

and collects mud, until another someone needs a home.

An egg within a shell, within the river

is opening now.