By taking care of me, somehow
I take care of you. You tending
you – somehow gives me breath.
swaying to and fro like gracious
seaweed dancing the waters of life,
washing our wounds – look!
bulbs unfolding from scorched earth
lifting their scar torn faces,
even if flames consumed every last drop of moisture, still- she
will dream herself back into life.
The mountain knows how to heal herself.
And so do we.
So do we.
©Ansa Smit, 2015.