The Becoming
A reflection the endless cycle of becoming.
The life of becoming one thing
depends upon the ending of another.
Look deeper.
The fronds of the fern
carry stories not only of soil,
but of ancient worlds and of predator and prey,
of survival and the fallen
written into bones of time.
The soft copper coloured fur
that now gently warms my fragile skin,
once tore fiercely through flesh
to feed its young,
the blood falling upon the earth
that beneath our fingers,
still holds the memory of countless bones
from lifetimes long forgotten.
Each drop of mist
carries the memory of tears.
Every wave that journeys
across and beneath the salted ocean
holds the echoes of adventure,
loss, longing and return.
Every current of air
from the gentlest breath
to the ravaging tornado,
transforms itself endlessly.
Billowing clouds become
great swirls of blackened coal,
darkening the horizon,
destroying all that remains in their path.
And still,
I see myself within it all.
Guinevere 07:5:26
From my heart to yours,
Jeni @ Peace Of Mind Health 🤍🙏
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