So she sat.
Sunshine tingling her skin,
The wind a dance in her hair,
Her head rests on the ground,
The rich soil welcomes her warmly,
Her hair that grows roots to the songs of birds.

Alive. Longer and longer.
When she rises
with hair of brown vines,
Pink flowers the fragrance of hope.
She carries earth’s wisdom around her shoulders.
And she begins to dance,
Her bodacious hips carried away by the wind.
In the blue sky
she is twirling.