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| Over-soul |
Many over-souls, fleeing grids of profit and loss,
have returned to their places in the bosom of nature,
yet where the narrow road starts winding
near ancient trails and abandoned village sites,
we still sense them when they let us, where
birds forage through private woodlands,
where clear veins flow after winter rains,
and coyotes howl as the moon rises--
Sometimes we envision them
as Goddesses or Gods near a spring
or a stream or within a quiet grove--
when they sense our love for rocks
and moss and mushrooms and grass,
for the stars and flowers and each other,
they whisper to us and gently touch
our souls and drench us with their peace.
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