if i slowed way down i would

stare at stars on each clear night

flat on back, arms stretched out

wide.

 

i would search for seashells every

day, dance to the steady rhythm

of the waves, and listen to their secrets

as they arrive from shores far and wide.

 

i would wander aimless through

groves of tall trees, and wait and watch

to see what peeps and flutters between

the leaves, what feathered companions

nestle there.

 

i would place hands on bark, feet steady

for minutes at a time, breathe woodiness

in deep and wonder what the trees have

seen indeed.

 

in summary, i would live as if this

very moment —was all that mattered

and i would lean into its offering. 

 

Heather Pound 2024

Photo by Graham Holtshausen on Unsplash