two petite feet peek out from beneath bowed knees––
they are covered in the evidence of adventure
from a place where soot still lays scattered
after fires ravaged the landscape not more than a few weeks ago.
in devastation’s place, new grass now grows.
tiny green buds push their way out into daylight from darkened trunks,
and pollinators begin to visit an occasional wild flower
as they colour their way back into being.
what better way to mark this season of newness than for this child’s feet—
full of curiosity, adventure and mischief—
to imprint creation’s recovery with their innocence
and for them too,
to encounter beauty as it rises from the ashes.
Excerpt from The Wild Inside: Poems of Life and Flow
Because Souls Are Like Gardens 