We make ourselves into the earth.
We puddle into darkness.
We turn inward.
We learn to listen to the silence –
how to recognize the soft sounds underfoot
how to listen to the brushed strokes overhead
of dark clouds passing.
We learn to let the rain speak,
its holy, sacramental language.
Eventually, we’ll learn to trust the seasons on the outside.
But for now, we wait indoors.
and hard drops splinter on the surface.
Poem and image by Sarah Rehfeldt. Please do not copy without my permission.
Published in Issue 6 of EarthSpeak Magazine: http://www.sevencirclepress.com/earthspeak