To feel the rhythm
Of the Earth’s heart,
Is to see the unseen
Patterns in a human eye.
Faint kiss stains on cheeks,
And the flicker of
Fireflies at night.
To attend to discreet scents
Of morning spring dew.
The sweet aroma
Of a strawberry field.
Or books that smell
Of vanilla-wood perfume.
To know the quirks of sound.
Like that of quiet melting snow.
Or how bare winter trees creak
When rocked by a breeze.
It is to notice the
Drum of a song,
Beating,
Against the souls
Of our feet.
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