deep in the forest where eyes don’t see
moss grows out of logs
life out of death
entire civilizations of insects
go about their day
leaves live full lives
floating downward
onto glass lakes
and I’ll never stop trying
to give them voices,
the white foam of water
singing recklessly
an ancient song of
where glory comes from
and I’ll never stop attempting
to sing it back
in full translation
so we all can hear
and know how birds stay at peace
what flowers are trying to say
and where the turtles sleep in the sun
words and images copyright 2011 Brooke Gale Luby
brookelouvier.com 