Mother Nature, She Speaks to Me

Mother Nature, she speaks to me

through rain that lands pitter-patter

soothing sun-scorched field and flowers.

“Melt,” she whispers;

“Let yourself surrender, sink deep and heavy

down into the Earth and I

will nourish you there.

Melt.”

Mother Nature, she speaks to me

through the fresh scent of ancient evergreens

and the way these beings are rooted -

surely, firmly, stretching above and so below.

“Ground,” she whispers;

“Let yourself be held; let yourself stand

here. Now. A soul as sacred as all of these

earthly, ancient ones.

Ground.”

Mother Nature, she speaks to me

through midsummer blossoms that fade

as quickly as they came.

“Revel,” she whispers;

“Let your heart open as wide as your eyes;

let yourself be enchanted by the comings

and the goings, appearances

and disappearances.

Revel.”

Mother Nature, she speaks to me

through the life that now lives in my womb;

prodding, strengthening, stretching before emergence

into life on the other side.

“Trust,” she whispers;

“Let your body do as it knows to do.

There is nothing you need to force nor figure out;

divine wisdom is on your side.

Trust.”

Mother Nature, she speaks to me

through tears and through rage,

through love and through fear.

“Allow,” she whispers;

“Let the fullness of your experience be welcome here,

tending to each wave as sacred, as wise,

as teacher.

Allow.”

Mother Nature, she speaks to me

through silence, when I quiet enough

to hear her subtle tongue.

“Listen,” she whispers;

“Let yourself open to the bare bones of nothingness

and here I show myself to you

as everything.

Listen.”

© Gillian Florence Sanger

Photo by Magic Unfolds