Here’s a wee poem I wrote a while ago…
‘We cannot reach for the sky in any meaningful way until we embrace the dark, moist mud of our Earthen selves.’…
Strongly rooted,
Our bellies breathe fully
The air that fuels us.
Our hands reach and
Fingers spread like
Branches stretching out.
We touch the heavens.
Still,
Our leaves will fall and
Return to the ground,
In which our
Roots remain,
Sinking ever deeper into
Our beloved Earth.
And,
Eventually the fleshy, boney
Decay of our bodies will,
Too,
Offer themselves back into the soil.
Dreaming into another form;
To be born, to live and return
within the cycles of nature’s timeless pulse.
We cannot reach
For the sky in
Any meaningful way until
We embrace the dark,
Moist mud of our Earthen selves.
Hayley Price (c)
