How you speak with me

I see the sun and rise with it,

I see the moon and fall to it.

The wind whispers, laying out stories as though they want to lure me into the trees,

The water sings, chanting tales about love as though they believe I should fall

The fire calls, in a low tone asking me about all the others, wanting me to pay attention.

The earth hums and the mushrooms become familiar again and I don't feel empty.