he speaks, petals blow in the wind,
land in her hands. she holds them
and her heart speaks the language of flowers.
*
what was it He blew this direction?
what softness did He bring?
what stilled the hearts of creatures?
*
under the siege of words
pains unleashed from centuries
the soul, lashed with red
*
bottled tears gleam in sunlight
a gaze speaks a thousand words–
releasing hidden torrent
*
he sings a melody, and walks in the midst
of a pine forest; alone, he walks—
who sings with you?
*
do the trees bend and join your song?
does the river thirst and beg you to drink?
he stands in waters — rushing and cool
*
the sun beats; he sleeps
he awakens with chest open–
his rib is missing. she can breathe.
*
words cannot be spoken now,
language is that of the leaves and
petals that blow in the wind.
*
What a beautiful way to live with those first moments at creation…through poetry, images, sights, sounds and smells.
It’s fun to imagine what it must have been like. Thanks for sharing and commenting!