A Morning Scroll 8/369

Listen.
Not with ears alone
Lock In, Attentive

Within the garden of your mind

Bare the soles of your feet, to the soil, in both reality and dream
With fingertips that have reached for mist and the missed
With the tongue that has tasted rain and honey and the salt of tears

This is not a tale of kings or battles, in reality nor the dream
It is a tale of roots that reach and remember
Of voices, that were never lost
Of a garden that began to speak before the first word was written.

And it begins— as all beginnings do
Not with a scream or a shout

But with a resonance