The land knows –

You -were born of it

womb from loin

 

fire burns, ashes lay

blackened darkness

Even- when you are lost

 

stop to listen

the land – knows you

 

seeds buried deep

sow, what you intend to reap

 

tears- like water flow

tis not the only way, to grow

 

know, you. Are not alone.

Even – when you

are lost.

 

Amanda Potter©: 2019 Poetry Marathon