-- *Mar*Of course — here’s an original poem inspired by *“The Emergence of Procrastination”*, weaving together its themes of nature, divinity, and the loss of symbiosis: ------------------------------ *The God Who Breathed in the Leaves*
Once, before thought learned to hesitate, the wind decided for us. Roots spoke to rivers, clouds translated their hymns to rain, and every creature’s pulse was a syllable in the same vast sentence. No one delayed. A seed fell — the soil knew its answer. A wing trembled — the air made room. The world was one body, breathing itself in and out of forever. Then came our mirrors, our small bright prisons of logic, our desks built of numbers and names. We learned to ask before we moved, to measure before we felt, to fear the silence between thoughts. Now we sit in air that forgets us, our lungs full of committee minutes, our dreams stapled to the calendar. Yet somewhere beyond the fumes a forest still remembers. It waits, patient as green time, for the moment you will walk in again— remove your shoes, open your ribs, and breathe until you vanish back into the One that never asked you to wait. ------------------------------ Would you like me to make the poem more *philosophical* (like Rumi or Blake), or more *contemporary and free-verse*, like Mary Oliver or Ocean Vuong? -- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "Thatha_Patty" group. To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to [email protected]. To view this discussion visit https://groups.google.com/d/msgid/thatha_patty/CACDCHCLNOQreAw_6TNPuycNRUDdCtYW%3DoWFN8TSus_OaCZYHcw%40mail.gmail.com.
