I belong to this earth.
My lungs belong to the wind that fills them.
My feet belong to the ground that holds me upright.
My eyes belong to the sun that gives them light.
My shoulders belong to the night that wraps itself around me.
My fingertips belong to the petals of a rose,
that are oh so soft.
My blood belongs to the thorn that punctures my skin.
My tip toes belong to the mud they play in.
My lips belong to the river,
that donates itself to my cells.
My mind belongs to gravity,
who ties it to this body.
My heart belongs to the drum of time,
that tells it to beat.
One day my bones will belong to the worms in the ground,
I will become this earth.
About the Creator
cookie foot
writing is my therapy don't bully me
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The Business of Nature
Dew drops reflected the light of the sun. The inhabitants of Whispering Woods woke up to the golden droplets of water on the leaves of the flora. The oaks particularly enjoyed the light and the maples did, too. Happiness enveloped all who lived there, even the rocks that cried out in the night delighted in the morning.
By Skyler Saunders6 days ago in Fiction
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