Unaware of the monitor, nor of I, and my witness, in the realm of Consciousness 
Sunflower Seed, true to herself, happens across a suitable patch of earth 
and settles in as though she has always been meant to be there, Eco-soul, a Self of flora
of a physical life in Earth Village, nesting in harmony, yet also in folly, under the juniper
and I rest nearby, on this sun-wise journey with People, a circling awareness bearing the World.

Indigenous is she to Eastern Spring and so conveys a lofty innocence, an effusive essence
of Sage, with the dawning of hopeful honey buds, beauty in the cross-World pollination reaching to the breast of morning dew, rising under soft golden days, warm rays
—as a knowing witness, I am still awed, by the luminous wonder of truly authentic being
ready to wriggle in curiosity with the dandelions, noting the soft air smelling something later to be known as the balsam fir, as they jostle for space at the Earth Market.

Sunflower, like the others, roots her toes into the sandy soil as Spider weaves a webbed story 
of each EcoSoul, a persona forming, onto the World story, a telling she herself must unfold with an open-willed sheltering of this spirit-centred innocence, her only wanting is to be held on the earthly slide sheltered, drinking of the rain, and, for now, feeling comfort in Earth with errant daffodils and exquisite dandelions, shared by Birds and Bees who carry hope.

Sensing more beyond the tangible, she explores in a free-play with different nascent fauna, babbling openly, meandering beside untamed mountain streams and lakes, resting beside the Chitalpa, this heart-shaped white and purple protectorate with sun, water, oxygen and care 
in this rich mossing of her Earth platter of life, over time, new viridescent clothing, stepping a bit further each day rooting and sprouting to mingle among wildly diverse bouquets.

From my perch I stay tuned to the beauty of EcoSoul’s sun-wise orientation
a journey shifted by forces of nature, allowing the actualities and potentials 
to freely sketch the matrix of life’s Eastern Spring birthing mystery,
and the Innocent, in this innate unfolding of Earthly past, present and imagination
feels, and is tuned, ever so subtly, to the ominous winds of change.

~ namasté, Leah J. 🕊

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