Through the tracery of rivers
blue inlets bleed earth into sea.
Sea winds breathe salt life to land.
The body of the world beats round
with the rhythm of its turning.
The sun falls to earth and grows green.
Seeds on the wind fling out its hidden light
making flowers glow golden in the shadows.
A faun with buttercups falling from its lips
leaps into the glade,
where the doe, breathing in pine, bore her young
on the bones of those who dropped
down in death creating earth.

by Karen Mitura