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The air is dust.
I drink salt.
I cry mud.
My hands sing
The moon-rise.
My feet grow roots.
The tide returns.
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Bear … 03.30.2015
ⓒBearspawprint2015
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bearspawprint 
I really loved this actually. Great stuff : )
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Thank you.
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[…] me stuff, make me laugh, make me sad and melancholy, tell me about worlds I had no idea about, give me little gems to treasure, teach me new vocabulary and writing styles. They can give me ideas for future stories and I might […]
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Thank you :Star:
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What a beauty!
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Thank you.
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Your beauty came blowing me here
You look wonderful :*
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Did you mean to say that you like what I wrote?
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exactly
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This is beautiful!
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Thank you, Val.
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Your reference to dust brought to mind a creation story of one of the nations. May not
be relevant to your words, but as I say, dust…….
In a time before there was time winds and dust came from the four directions to a land
with no people – Creator gathered the wind and dust from these storms to fashion the Numunuh,
a people given the strength of the elements they were formed of.
Without intention a shape shifter came into being as well and began to abuse the Numunuh,
seeing this Creator confined it to a pit where it railed an thrashed about.
Seeking some way to continue it’s abuse this shape shifter took up residence in those
creatures with stingers and fangs of poison and to this day seeks to harm those it bites or
stings.
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I thank you.
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rezinate check email
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OH! Trees are wise!
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Yes, many trees are quite wise.
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