Even when you’re lost

 

the dirt knows you. Dust to dust, swirling

in the springtime breeze, whispering sweet

melodies as it touches the trees and blows

past the birds and bees. The worms and beetles

call as they crawl under rocks and mud, waiting

for the shake of footsteps to cease. You never

lose your way through the trunks covered

with vines, always guided by the stars

above, a God who walks beside.