The packed tissue-box of a peony explodes.
The sun’s flames arrive on petals of time.
Spring irises and volcanoes: earth's fire reawakening.
Like the human race, planets flower slowly in time.
Everyone wants to tell the earth it must be saved.
No one wants to hear the planet thinking time.
Flattened by the world’s sheer size, we run faster.
We’d rather be dwarfed by space than time.
Tornadoes and quakes can’t shake our hold,
but we slip into evolution. We can’t feel its time.
Earth feeds and eats us. What we understand between
is nurtured on an invisible food: time.
Earth soothes our painful unfolding with its cycles.
Walking in circles, we breathe in time
With the beauty we have been busy fleeing.
Oh, Rachel, catch up. Stop. Only let time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem