I spoke to the tulip
about this weird and freezing spring,
I wanted its opinion
on climate change and suffering
and it said
this is not suffering:
it is a question of enduring the cold:
and we are growing towards it.
Go tell them this.
I spoke to my hips
and they danced me warm along the street
out along the river to look for wild grasses
and grazing sheep
and the pieces of living earth
from my belly.
I danced my hips
along the flowing river and the river blessed
me with its shining water of delight,
uplifting the reeds, the hidden fish, the light
and shining it back to the sky.
I spoke to the rooftops
and they said nothing
their tiles about the houses
hugged their walls
to the belching out of smoke
from their chimneys.
I spoke to the earth that holds
the tulips, that grounds
the houses, that feeds
the grazing sheep beside the river
that dances my hips along its banks
and the earth said simply