Take a cue from the Earth;
Stop and watch, before the freeze, as she takes a breath,
Earned after her summer's work.
Stretching, yawning hills rolled into each other;
Sensual textures of the tilled, dark soil,
Like flaked chocolate caught in the sun's late day kiss,
Melting to the thinner, felted carpet of grazing pasture,
Massaged and nibbled by marshmallow sheep.
The herd moves glacially, calming the field;
Soothing it thoroughly between the fence rows,
The forest, and the meadow of long grasses.
Those fronds resigned to endure the winter without cropping,
Have abandoned their early summer stiffness for
More forgiving curls and waves among the autumn winds.
The forest trees, some still frocked,
Others readying for new fashion,
Dutifully watch for approaching fronts, and
Mark the speed of the sun with
Busy shadows, gathering the dewy glints and sparkles
Covering the hills like sequins thrown in a breeze.
Really, take this cue.
Avail yourself; get close.
This is not just a separate pastoral setting; not a curiosity.
You are part of this.
And as you quiet to hear the breath,
Let your soul absorb the
Unmatchable richness, and the
Enormity of how much you are loved.
Softness is the key, and if you can
Embrace this as your default setting,
You will find that this sensuality will move you so easily,
To exactly where you need to be
Among the sun,
And your own beautiful sequins.