Silver

​What if the earth were poetry
and all the curses were lies?

If rejoicing in sweetness
was learned from the start,
would we have more of an
inclination for heaping grace 
upon others and ourselves
like wildflowers fresh from bloom?

Let’s build something 
together, you and I.
Carefully water the seeds,
patiently wait for the roots 
to grow deep, and hold me tight
on those days when I am my worst self.
Speak of grace when I have forgotten.
I will do the same.

Is there anyone who could remain
unaffected?
Or would everyone react as I do - 
dropping their parcels and purses
to sink deeply into this generous offering,
arms and legs swimming 
as if the sea were only one stroke away? 

I will not walk through this day. 
I will float through a field of sunflowers
soaking up the silence. I will move as if
I am a welcomed and grateful guest.

I will silver the earth with softness.