My toes drink the morning dew
lingering on blades still emerald
despite the creeping chill of fall.
My soles feel the rhythm of the earth,
the deep pulsing of an ancient beat,
and seeks synchronicity
with the red clay metronome,
longing to take only wisdom,
and an oak strong sense
of belonging.
About the Creator
Ellie Hoovs
Breathing life into the lost and broken. Writes to mend what fire couldn't destroy. Poetry stitched from ashes, longing, and stubborn hope.
My Poetry Collection DEMORTALIZING is out now!!!: https://a.co/d/5fqwmEb
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Our “Raise Your Voice Threads” are hosted most alternating Thursdays at 12PM ET to offer creators more avenues to uncover exceptional stories on Vocal. As we are continuously searching for fresh creators and inspiring stories, this thread provides an opportunity to exchange and discuss the stories that have moved and motivated us on Vocal.
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Comments (2)
I like the shifting of description as it goes on, from grass to earth to clay to oak. This feels gentle and light at the beginning, and strong and solid by the end🙌🏾
Oh, how I love walking barefoot on dewey grass. Simply beautiful.