W H E N I B E C O M E A F O R E S T
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when I become a forest you will hear my smell calling for you to come barefoot softly stepping on my moss you forget restlessness of all the cities beautiful and ugly I touch your feet with my mountain streams washing away noises of all the wars heard and seen I flow underneath your transparent skin with my sun melting all doubts in your lungs I whisper a song written a life ago into your ear and you recognize me my forest fingers braid you hair with my grass and I read all unspoken words of yours I give you blood of my rivers, milk of my wildberries and flesh of my soil and you never go starving I shelter you in my silent caves and my round darkness protects your sleeps early before I tell the animals a new day has come I wake you up with my wind entering your body and you see me and this beauty is all yours you press your face against the morning dew skin to skin you inhale warm smell of life from the earth and you remember you have always been here and you know you have always been a part of me |
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S N O W B R E A K
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S E E D P O I N T
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R O O T S
/ grandmother's hair braided with grass /
/ grandmother's hair braided with grass /
A N I M A L H U M A N T R E E
A R C H E O L O G Y
Drift wood of the High Coast
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"Who does wear shoes when the stones are warm?"
/ a place by the sea, where I found stones of my skin colour / |
And she ran away
With the mountain, becoming
Lichen on a rock, learning
The magic of chlorophyll.
With the mountain, becoming
Lichen on a rock, learning
The magic of chlorophyll.
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