To Believe

You see this land
this place with weeds and dandelions, of earthworms, of beetles, of stones, moss and seeds?
This is what we are meant to believe.
Not something with our minds to grasp, to calculate in maths, or with moppy music to memorize
but something with our muscles
the memory of movements etched into our membranes
our fingers and our hands.

Let the dirt soak deep into your skin
live and breathe this moisture
deep down within

Let the scent of this wildness
linger there in the base of your being.
believing that here in this land
there is still something to have faith in.

Not just a confession we utter once a week
but something we feel
something we know
maybe surrounded by stained glass windows
but more likely laying among flowers and green grass in rain-coated meadows

When we believe it is this song of melodies, synapses and scents
of wilderness and wild
released when we breathe in the dust of earth’s smile.