Perfumed sap infiltrates my nostrils with dusty tales told by antiqued myrrh, of worlds unseen and wisdom never reached quite in the nick of human time. As I walk deeper into the coated forest, the red, Mississippi mud begins to cake my once tender feet.
Whisper secrets to me through the rustles of judicious juniper trees. Let the wind shake persimmons from once supportive limbs and stain my ivory blouse with the vibrant hues of orange from the fruits of their sweet labor.
Cover me in sugarplum delights so that all critters consume me whole and put me back into the musty earth from which my atoms derive. Let me humble myself as nourishing dirt, as tacit trees, as persistent perennial blooms. I want to learn all that stillness knows of strength and resilience, of silent formidability.
From life’s most alluring blood, poppies bloom to take their place; pink cheeks do not prolong passed the cracked bark of hidden laurel trees. Bend to nature’s will and let the world unfold before you.
Morph into moody marigolds and meditate on life’s concoctions. The world may escape too quickly for human grasp, but not for those who patiently endure nature’s instructive cycle.