Let me translate your words
back into light, back into
towering grand fir, gracious at evening,
green glow of grass in western sun,
purple of delicate iris

Let me translate your actions
back into desire,
into the impulse of being seen,
of connecting, belonging,
and being uniquely needed

This is the original language,
shared by bees and geese and ravens
and whatever bird it is that
sends that trill of liquid joy
continually across the land —
this is the language
in which we are understood.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 19, 2016