Ancient and sentient, they stay, and sit beside us
These echos of wisdom and knowing—exhale deeply
from the ancestral trees standing sturdy and tall
with the young ones gently rising beneath their call,
as the Universe meets the stars that meets the planets,
and the meadow meets the forest that meets the sea.
Oh to feel not tied to place,
rather to life's force and beckoning embrace.
The Universe speaks, 'We must see to live, so we don't regret.'
Unburdened by the culture of “right“ and “wrong,”
we live through what makes us whole and belong—
the sense of a lavender petal, a fallen leaf, and roasted cocoa,
and cut grass, and a boiling pot, and cassava root
and the sweat of passion, and the red of henna, and the smell of dung
and footsteps on concrete, the sound of a string played, and a voice lifted,
and the lingering of light from skyscrapers and neon signs, and rough surfaces,
and stars in the sky, and cries in the dark, and pangs in the belly,
and the imagining of space that lifts us
to wonder—and forever grace.
Shift slightly, reimagine, and the world awakes—
to little things that say it all
and usher in wonder like an afternoon rainfall
that beckons us to be bold
by living simply, but never small,
for then indeed, we live ten-fold.