(no subject)
I once touched the ground on a cold winter's day,
There was no snow but only some dead leaves,
And as I lay rest my hands upon that frosted ground I felt warmth coming from beneath.
Beneath the frost and beneath all the dead things,
I could feel the Earth and it's heart beating softly, softly, softly,
Like she was sleeping and watching, replenishing and growing,
Waiting for a time when her children again would need her to nourish them.
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I have a disorder and I need help.
Will you call a farm for me?
There was no snow but only some dead leaves,
And as I lay rest my hands upon that frosted ground I felt warmth coming from beneath.
Beneath the frost and beneath all the dead things,
I could feel the Earth and it's heart beating softly, softly, softly,
Like she was sleeping and watching, replenishing and growing,
Waiting for a time when her children again would need her to nourish them.
---------------------------
I have a disorder and I need help.
Will you call a farm for me?