I belong with the trees
For they do not speak to me of politics,
Or genocide,
But of neutral winds hovering over their leaves
Singing songs of renewing rivers and mountains they've hiked
With broken branches
That aren't broken
And tree trunks
That are sturdy enough to forego the branches
I belong with the light
Hitting the ant hill
Cascading onto the ants
Shining on their heavy bread crumbs
The light that covers and makes no distinctions
In its reach
Covers all and none; prejudice it knows not
I belong with the echoes
In the valleys
In the negative space
I feel whole
And full with the earth's delights
Formally known as nature
