When I opened the door
I found the vine leaves
speaking among themselves in abundant
My presence made them
hush their green breath,
embarrassed, the way
humans stand up, buttoning their jackets,
acting as if they were leaving anyway, as if
the conversation had ended
just before you arrived.
the glimpse I had, though,
of their obscure
gestures. I liked the sound
of such private voices. Next time
I'll move like cautious sunlight, open
the door by fractions, eavesdrop
SAND guest speaker with a taste of Sufi Whirling
Dazzling timelapse shows how microbes spoil our food – and sometimes enrich it.
Give yourself permission to rest and receive lullabies for your heart.
a masterpiece album from Pulitzer Prize winning musician dealing with intergenerational trauma
A duet of cello and birdsong
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