And if today we speak at all,
let us speak in golden leaf.
Let’s converse in low clear stream,
whisper in rose-hip pink.
And if we speak at all today,
let’s slip mulch between each word,
aware that what we say will grow—
how powerful the words we sow.
And if we speak at all,
let’s speak in mountain, speak in field,
speak only words that lift and heal,
speak only words that lift and heal.
And if we speak,
let’s listen for the quiet in between—
plant tulip bulbs in the silences.
And crocuses. And grace.
And any words with thorns in them,
let’s set them down. Let’s lose them.
And if our words don’t open like sky,
let’s let the sky do all the talking.