Folklore

Photo by Jonathan Klok on Unsplash

I was shaped in quiet places—
where wind threads through tall grass
and rivers revise their edges
against ancient stone;

my becoming was not loud—
it was the thaw beneath frost,
the conversation between trees,
steeped in folklore and rain;

I listened to the earth breathe,
to roots working in the dark,
and the quiet hum 
of the old gods 
as they slumbered beneath the moss;

I am the language of seasons,
rising with the sap,
carrying the wild hush of forests
inside my ribs
as I awaken to the spring. 

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Written for my prompts “steeped in folklore” and “a conversation between trees”.

Jo xo