Wild Seed

Some souls are born with seeds of the wild
carried in their pouches.  Restless, hungry,
they walk through cities, seeking
a different way.

Some feet need time to walk unbound
on cool brown earth, moist grass, damp sand,
on ancient stone that sings to flesh,
no barriers left between sole and earth.

Some hands must seek the wild waters,
palms alive in cold mountain streams,
some hands must touch the earth
with longing, find refuge among
the stones and trees.

Some bodies need to find themselves
naked, walking alone in desert sun, spinning
like children beneath the moon, merging
with waters, sacred, holy,
out in the open air.

Some ageless children must cradle themselves
in the gnarled laps of trees,
close to roots and rising sap, ears alive
to the song of the earth, breath alive
to the wide open sky.

Some souls are born with seeds of the wild
carried in their pouches, seeking to plant
where the pavement cracks, seeking to
split apart the deadness, seeking to
bring the wild fruit back,
to feed all hungry souls.

From the book "Essential Radiance:
Poetry by Renée Hummel"
© 2001, 2013 Dyan Renée Hummel

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Sun Song by Willow Arlenea

Sun Song by Willow Arlenea

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Mission Statement

To join my voice with others
on paths of unfoldment
and upliftment by offering
inspiration and encouragement
through spiritual poetry,
nature poetry and other
creative expressions.

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