come away

For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;

The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing birds is come,
and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land;

The fig tree puts forth her green figs and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.

— The Holy Bible, Song of Solomon, Chapter 2, verses 11-13

my help

My help is in the mountain
Where I take myself to heal
The earthly wounds
That people give to me.
I find a rock with sun on it
And a stream where the water runs gentle
And the trees which one by one give me company.
So must I stay for a long time
Until I have grown from the rock
And the stream is running through me
And I cannot tell myself from one tall tree.
Then I know that nothing touches me
Nor makes me run away.
My help is in the mountain
That I take away with me.

Earth cure me. Earth receive my woe. Rock
strengthen me. Rock receive my weakness. Rain
wash my sadness away. Rain receive my doubt.
Sun make sweet my son. Sun receive the anger
from my heart.

— nancy wood

speak earth

speak earth and bless me with what is richest

make sky flow honey out of my hips

rigid as mountains

spread over a valley

carved out by the mouth of rain.

audre lorde