Rise

This is the season to rise,

not for show or shine,

because your roots said it’s time. 

The land is alive.

A hum beneath your feet,

a shimmer on the leaves,

a thousand small yeses from the earth

straight to your soul.

You are alive.

Like the wildflowers in the path of your boot,

like sunlight pooling on your skin,

like laughter that starts low and spills wide.

Bring it all in this season to rise.

From tip to toe.

The whole of you,

the nettle and the rose.

Honey-hearted,

woven with life, mud-marked and radiant.

A body remembering

how to belong to the light.

The land will meet you.

These women will hold you.

Something in you knows,

it’s deep and bright and older than words,

And when it does,

do not rush.

Turn again to the roots.

Bend to the soil.

Begin, once more,

with a grateful yes.

L Norton