Listening

Whoever told you that nature is dead
wasn’t listening
I hear the conversations of trees
the breath of flowers
the creaking wood
rushing steps of tiny mites
navigating the pores in stone
I hear the undulation of the web
matrix evolving
life is motion

Whoever told you that nature is irrelevant
wasn’t listening
We imitate birdsong
emulate ant colonies
follow wild trails
build with earth and ores
heal with plant bodies
drink the sun

Whoever told you that nature is not us
wasn’t listening
these pines comb the same wind
that nourishes my bloodstream
these seeds and fruits give life
to my cells

I am a playful finch
rushing torrent
jagged mountain
wandering insect
mighty Oak Woman
firmly rooted
abundant branches
gently swaying

I. Am. Listening.

© S. Rinderle, 8/3/14
Published in Catching Calliope, Winter 2015.

Advertisements

7 thoughts on “Listening

  1. That’s a BEAUTIFUL poem, Ms. Finch!!! Especially knowing where it “came” from – your retreat I assume… the same place I was just at – or near there… yes, nature…soooooo healing and calming and inspiring. Thank you for this gift!!! xxx

  2. Pingback: Listening to Yourself | Susana Rinderle Consulting, LLC

  3. Pingback: I’ve been published (again)! | Purple Lyrics

  4. Pingback: Listening to Yourself - Susana Rinderle Consulting, LLC

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s