I write the dreams of my elders.

I write the songs of sweepers.

I write the melody of gatekeepers

I write the mothering spirit of branches,

hueing maple sapp with bark and sugar.

I write of the distance traveled long before earth.

I write of wings sown in prayer and navigating me.

I write of the mountains dancing in my belly.

I write rythms of oceans.

Afterall Poetry is treasured earth.

 

 

 

6 responses

  1. loristrawn Avatar
    loristrawn

    Such beautiful, natural images!

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Visionariekind Avatar

      thank you kindly ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Maren Avatar

    This is wonderful — may I use it in my sermon on Sunday?

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Visionariekind Avatar

      yes indeed – it would be an honor blessings to you ❤

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Visionariekind Avatar

      thank you kindly Kelley 😉

      Liked by 2 people

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