sad songs remind me of dirt

i talk to animals
like little people
that haven't lost their
innocence yet.

i can tell them
my secrets
and they
can tell me
their own.

sometimes i whisper
to the trees
and they whisper to me
like rigid
men and women
who have retained their
souls somehow
through all of this.

i whisper secrets
and they whisper their
own
in return.

i hide rocks in
my pockets
for they are wise
and have seen
many things
so i take them with me
wherever i go.

they rarely speak, but
when they do,
its always
about
losing
love
and finding
their place in the world.

i breath out small nothings
when i lay in the grass,
letting the blades
course through
my fingers.
and again,
i am reminded
of purpose.

the grass speaks
of seed
and spark,
of lives
worth living
and of those who
have
fell.

i keep a clump
of dirt
next to my heart
where i can
feel its heat
and listen to
tales
of all who
have blended with
the soil.

the earth speaks
of peace
and our need
to turn away
from war.

i have an apple
which i eat
and ask forgiveness
for biting
to the core
and thank the fruit
for giving me all
that it is
so i may speak to
the world for
one more
day.

i let the music
end
when it is
finished
and hope
to play
another tune
on another
day.