
Beneath the noise, the glowing screens,
The hurried thoughts, the in-betweens,
There waits a rhythm, soft and true—
The ancient pulse that once we knew.
Step outside where silence grows,
Where wind still whispers what it knows,
Where roots run deep and rivers bend,
Unbothered by the need to mend.
Let your feet touch soil again,
Release the weight, unlearn the strain,
Feel sunlight settle on your skin
Like something waking from within.
The trees don’t rush, the sky won’t plead,
The Earth gives all we truly need,
In every breath, in every sound,
A quiet truth: you still belong.
So linger where the wild things are,
Forget how small you think you are,
For in the dirt, the air, the sea—
You are the Earth remembering.
Thank-you for reading,
Brenda Marie
Discover more from Writing Through the Soul
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.