We have bodies. Our eyes shine and our hearts pump. Our glands synthesize and our skin sweats. We taste, smell, feel, see, hear. We think. We talk, sing, intuit, dream. Our ancestors are with us as we move, burning through our eyes, and bursting through our laughter. We are each a unique adaptation. What’s under you? Can you feel the pull of the sacrum to the earth? The flower opening on top of your head? In your tireless heart the earth and sky meet. I sit and rest, my roots extending. Rain fills every crevice of basalt below the surface of pasture, so the mammoth roots of eucalyptus and black cottonwood anchor deeper down into the rock. I too, fasten into the earth. A plant moves like a person by dispensing seeds. A person roots like a plant while in meditation. We root into the earth and sky, leaving our chattering, exhausted minds behind. In this place I can truly hear, and bring to harvest the fruit of the seeds I choose to love.
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