Come with me. There is a wild space
where the grass is not
greener, not trimmed, not planned
where dead is fully exposed, and we see
how to live on, how to turn like fallen leaves
into winter shelters. warm and living spaces.
Vibrant beings underfoot.
Over the hill some ways more, past the brambles
great limbs tight with rigor mortis.
Bark loose now, spongy.
Soon the husk will fall.
There are moments we stand, careful and steady
arms wide open, bathing in the sun.
Whatever comes after, remember this
is also true. You
a house with many rooms. Kin are we
to universe, to dust
and root and tree.
Deep in, give
safety center kindness fear
curiosity courage hope forgiveness
S t r e t c h a n d b r e a t h e,
all time will
return us. Remember this.
I am with you, always. We are now
without our broken shells
because we do not need them
Poem by Samantha Eads
An explorer at heart, Samantha Eads is lucky to have journeyed far within and beyond the place she first started. She also writes poetry, plays in the garden, and talks too loudly at dinner time about personal things.