EARTH INTIMACIES

“𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘌𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘵. 𝘕𝘰 𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦. 𝘞𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘶𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘭. 𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘶𝘱.” —𝘈𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴 𝘞𝘦𝘣𝘦𝘳

When Grasshopper flies into your ears
You have a duty to send your ears out hopping across the land

Chomping on the big and little
and allying with the wind

You’ll be forgiven for thinking
you know what the wind is,
some dull breeze or background

When Wind is the wing-lift
of every sky-bound being

Is the pheromones, the pollen
ash kin and Ever-born,
bearer of unconventional truths.

Sex and death and wisdom
in conversation with one another.

Just as Rain isn’t always grief
and Thunder isn’t always anger

but ways to communicate intimacy
with what is.

When Grasshopper flies into your mouth
You don’t know what to say

So you say it
with a strange and dusty accent

Just as Water speaks
a thousand dialects
in their undying pilgrimage

And when Grasshopper flies into your heart
their green gears grin
at all your precious purities.

You find yourself
no longer fearing
the depths of entangled love

You become impure, a porous prism
pulsating raw and riddled rhythms—

Your presence, an homage
Your feeling, an inter-folding
making the world anew
in each moment