you are ladybirds and the smell of a garden


 

Depending

on where you look,

what you touch, you are changing

all the time. The carbon inside you, accounting

for about 18 percent of your being, could have existed in any

number of creatures or natural disasters before finding

you. That particular atom residing somewhere

above your left eyebrow? It could well have

been a smooth, riverbed pebble

before deciding to call

you home.

 

You see,

you are not so soft after

all; you are rock and wave and

the peeling bark of trees, you are ladybirds

and the smell of a garden after the rain.

When you put your best foot forward,

you are taking the north side

of a mountain with

you.

 

Ella Frances Saunders