roots, are foundations for life.
It does not grow or bloom or call or breath with ill intent,
branches after all are built for,
nests are made of,
twigs are small for beaks.
Fish have fins to help them swim in, seas are homes to many who feed on, fish will migrate into,
lakes bathe bears and cubs.
Wind is older than,
red woods house the squirrels that feed on,
nuts fit perfectly into,
their cheeks are big enough for seeds. The mole was not made for,
the ground was made for the shrew the mouse the fox the badger,
the mole owns, a nose can smell its way to safety from,
storms nourish the plains grazing crowd.
Nothing was by accident if it is by nature we can feel with nothing but our, hearts exist in,
nature is our,
home,
welcome.
Sorry for stalking your blog, but Molly is right. Your writing is incredible. And dear, please don't stop. And by the way this post is breathtaking, I love the title.
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