-- *Mar*Here is a poem inspired by the emotional spirit of your essay—written in a *non-Cartesian, biospheric, intuitive voice*: ------------------------------ *The Forest That Remembers Us*
In the deep green silence where roots speak slow truths, the world is not a machine— it is a breath, a pulse, a trembling knowing. The trees do not think in lines, they think in circles, in fragrances, in the soft electricity of belonging. Their leaves whisper futures long before our calendars awaken. The river hears the mountains dreaming. The wind keeps the diaries of birds. Even the stones remember the footsteps of vanished rains. But we— we built our minds like cages of angles, airtight with explanations, starved of wonder. We forgot that every creature is a question and every answer is alive. Mechanized eyes do not see the sorrow of a cut root, the confusion of a poisoned stream, the grief of a sky that has lost its forests. Yet Nature, patient mother of all pulses, still waits for us in the last quiet places. If you walk there without your armor— without your clocks, your diagrams, your cleverness— she may open her ancient door and let you feel again the honest trembling of the world that holds you. And perhaps, for a moment, the future will not be unknown, the past will not be gone, and truth will not be hidden— because you will remember that you too are a living note in the symphony of the Biosphere. ------------------------------ If you’d like, I can write: 🌿 a shorter version 🔥 a more intense, prophetic version 💧 a gentler, prayer-like version 🌙 or a poem in the style of any poet you name. -- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "Thatha_Patty" group. To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to [email protected]. To view this discussion visit https://groups.google.com/d/msgid/thatha_patty/CACDCHCLsiAcOOvFpwqngfGTD71cCg2MmJtj_%3DoQquPEra4w04Q%40mail.gmail.com.
