what the river says

go slow
feed me
(you’ve
forgotten how,
forgotten you used to know this;
but it will come
back to you)

talk to me
bathe in me
stand near me
lie down beside me
breathe

be still
hear me
listen
take a drink
water yourself
use me as breath
as guide
your personal elixir
your own grand
design

dip your toes in me
it cleanses us both

what the mountain says

go slow
approach with respect
bring sturdy shoes

relax
feed me
hear me
listen

do not take that photograph
do not take that phone call
take a deep breath
take a leap of faith
exhale

disconnect the laptop
reconnect the dots:
land to sky
foot to rock
hand to heart to head to hand

walk on me
walk through me
take comfort in my ancient underground hum
as your foot provides comfort to me

i breathe spark
i breathe mint
i breathe wild rose and sage
and purple green grey mist
just like you do

remember?

what the caribou says

go slow
i am not that different from you
lost child
we walk the same trail
our heads heavy and
restless

connect to the earth
hear what is beneath
accept the obstacles you encounter
know every path began
with unclear intent

eat
feed yourself
take what you need
leave some for others

listen. wait.
listen. wait.
listen. wait.

be aware

what the writer sees

treadmills
carved into the side of the mountain
jackhammers, chainsaws
drown out the song of the jays

deer can’t feed on daytimers and dollar signs

what happened
to the art
that used to live
in the earth?