Naturally

Naturally

By Anika Giese

I’m not in on the inside jokes but neither are the birds;

although I never say the right things 

the wind doesn’t know words. 

Distorted funhouse mirrors forever scrambling 

my face, my shape, my name 

but I’ve never had my breath stolen by two sunsets that were the same. 

Whenever I feel small, I think of how it all begins; 

as a tiny seed taking root, or raindrops soaking in 

To ever-change is not a curse, but as natural as the breeze

I’ve never once condemned the space taken by the trees. 

In reflection, we’re no different from the dirt and the worms;

in both our birthplace and where every fiber will return.