All Of It Is Alive

The world is breathing loudly again this morning

It is speaking between unhurried breaths

What is it saying?

What am I hearing?

The shaking evergreens are whispering

And the cars’ engines are chattering

And the flighty birds are sermonizing

And I am still listening

For the secrets the world is sharing

This April morning,

Which has been brightly frozen in time.

In the living lake

The steely waves are washing

Away the worries of the world in an eternal baptism

And the gulls are commentating.

The wind, the wind

Is winding through the world

Between the emerald blades

And lavender weeds.

They call these little princes, robed in purple and bathed in sun,

Weeds.

Yes, they call them weeds but if they are weeds,

Then let me be a weed too,

A weed to be caressed by the breath

Of this stunning earth.

Let me be a weed that I too might share

In the secrets and sacraments and rituals of a world waiting

To impart it’s grace to those who have ears

To hear

The sounds of all that is alive and breathing.

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