Lullaby to the Seeds

I feel the soil beneath my feet –
soft,
yielding,
warm.

And I walk,
whispering a lullaby
to the seeds that sleep soundly
in the dark, damp earth,
dreaming of reaching toward the sun
that anoints my skin with gold.

I press my palm to the ground —
the Earth breathes
against my fingertips.

The scent of mushrooms and rain
lingers in my nostrils
like a strange perfume –
comforting,
familiar.

Everything here feels
patient,
and kind.

I let the silence
fill me up.

I close my eyes.