I am aware of the sounds around me; I can hear the faint flutter of a hummingbird's wings.
I notice the leaves dancing to the ground.
I hear the shuffle of invisible creatures scurrying back to the shadows that they call home.

I know the seasons are changing;
the scent has altered itself from one of stagnant dreams to one of promise.

I am aware of the dirt upon which I stand.
My feet are planted firmly, melting into the comfort of the earth and reuniting me with my Mother.
I feel the dirt transform my hands, unveiling their true purpose.
It holds fast to the creases in my palm and finds solace beneath my crooked fingernails.

I am aware that this completes the crevices of my soul.
The dirt proves to me that I am more than bones;
it is wholesome; pure...
So many things my world is not.
I can sense Her mocking what life has become.

Yet, as the wind stirs through the branches of Her hair, a whisper tickles my ear: "You are alive".