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.

