By taking care of me, somehow

I take care of you. You tending

you – somehow gives me breath.

This circle,

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.

2015-05-19 22.00.49


2015-05-19 22.00.29


2015-05-19 21.59.11

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