Turtle Crossing

The birds stop singing when I reach the top of the trail

Where the turtles cross, see the sign for cars to slow,

You must keep your eyes open and take care,

as you may come around the corner just a bit too fast,

and you won’t see where the turtles cross.

Scientists say there are more trees on the planet

than stars in our Galaxy, so the earth must breathe

providing everything to Gaia as she needs,

nutrients flow to her leaves from the soil at her roots

as the sun’s rains rises through the firmament

grabbing color from the air and from the sea at dusk,

the earth’s rotation pulling the day forward,

tells the turtles when it’s safe to cross.

What are you grieving? A long-ago chance?

a place where we walked, the turtles curled in the mud

rain spilling on our heads from the trees above

the earth sliding slowly in its orbit while spinning madly

we can barely hang on; we cling tightly

to time and memory and to precious faces radiant

in the golden afternoon sun. a long-ago birthday.

what is more important to you; what was?

or what might have been?

The misty trail smells of rot and new life coming

sleeping in the muck that sucks at our shoes

pulls us down, see the world through turtle’s eye:

mythical beasts come hurtling through a terrible night

Gaia is singing to us on the shore in the radiant moonlight

calling us out of the mud calling us to dance with stars

calling on our little ones to run fast, fast as they can

hear the sea roar pointing the way home, hear the pounding

surf that rocks me to sleep tenderly, gently,

while the raindrops fall from the leaves.