Folklore
I was shaped in quiet placesβ where wind threads through tall grass and rivers revise their edges against ancient stone; my becoming was not loudβ 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.
Written for my prompts βsteeped in folkloreβ and βa conversation between treesβ.
Jo xo


Reads as a nod to the great Romantics. thank you for sharing, Jo.
This is absolutely beautiful Jo