We tended the mythic
as if it would save us.
Tracing ancient stories,
trusting translations,
unearthing what we thought
might be enough.
Yet still the Earth
would not speak to us.
And then one day memory
composted into mycology,
etymology
leafed into ecology.
We stepped
from page to branch
from word to bud
and fell into the wisdom
of flowers.
Music pairing: Flowers Never Bend with the Rainfall — Paul Simon, 1965.
Wild Plum Blossoms in Spring. Photo taken near Wakefield, Quebec: Diane Perazzo, 2022
May these words bring truth and healing
through open hands and hearts. And then,
let it flow back into our Mother Earth
for the love of all her beings.
This poem was conceived and grown organically from my own unique human experience, thoughts, efforts, knowledge and research.
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