Photo by Dawid Zawiła on Unsplash
I sing to the sea of winging gulls, gentle lulls on wave-churned hulls, and ships sailing endlessly.
I listen to the mountains, wind-wounded granite bones ground down in glacial moulds.
I contemplate the sky, of transient eddies flowing in air’s remembrance, high then low, in perpetual motion.
I watch the desert, reflecting the ocean. Fossils bound in sand-soaked dune flows, where the lonely sirocco blows.
I whisper to the forest of silence
nestled in bow and bur, unfurling
leaves in spring, awakening.
I rejoice with the earth, its death and rebirth. Atmosphere renewing, binding wounds tight, before opening them back up to the light.
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