I stole the first line of this poem from the quote below. “Trees breathe in starlight…” I found it lovely and magical. I don’t think I’m done writing about it yet. And this little poem feels just right right now.
winter in michigan. A hoarfrost.
Trees breathe in starlight
The shimmer of the Milky Way
A dance of constellations
A rhythmic pulse of night glitter
Pulled down and in
held in bark and limb
twig and leaf
Seed and stem
The inhale of constellations
from all that Infinite
goes to root
And the Earth
feeds on heavenly
Light
“You know why trees smell the way they do? Stars. Trees breathe in starlight year after year, and it goes deep into their bones. So when you cut a tree open, you smell a hundred years’ worth of light. Ancient starlight that took millions of years to reach earth. That’s why trees smell so beautiful and old.”
Frances O’Roark Dowell.
That was lovely, Jeanne! Thanks, my magical friend. Katers
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