underneath my feet
a shifting
registers on the Richter
cracks a fault line in the earth
rocks my world
moves me
Catapults me with a longing
tips the scales toward there
a love of place, poetry
and passion
Hiding neath the thunderclaps
the shifted paradigms
A change produced by love
Each tense of verb
Every people place and thing
Shifts
Falling under a canopy of love
salt calls out, pulls me in
a sense of place grows
As kudzu vine on the heart
and those who ache
and those who love
the ones who rage and wage are lost
this shifting longing of a soul
to settle into place, a home
dig the roots into the earth
know the love that knows no bounds
anchor to the love
of steady heavy grace
that quells the pitch and swells of storms
the shifting shouts in whispers soft
to love much deeper better
all, especially those
who wander lost
This is beautiful. I love how it speaks to an awareness and love of place.
To love the wandering lost, yes. Love your words and heart.
“A change produced by love.” Isn’t this what it’s all about? Thankful for your voice.