Writings to Our Mother I | Página 13

In the Soil / Jon Lepp I am a pine-tree I touch the dirt, I am the dirt T he earthworms my friend, the minerals my majesty M y life rooted in the soil I stretch my arms at the coming of dawn When wind wallows through me I strengthen my stance I f not for water I wouldn't be T here are many layers to my existence I f not for water I wouldn't be When wind wallows through me, I strengthen my stance I stretch my arms at the coming of dawn M y life rooted in the soil T he earthworms my friend, the minerals my majesty I touch the dirt, I am the dirt I am a human-being 13