The Pulse of Earth

No art is ever finished; it is always a process that you end because you might as well. -Vol

Day breathes low, and night sinks deep,

Sky leans soft on trembling leaves.

Wind slips through stones, through collarbones,

Tracing the trails memory weaves.

Rivers rise beneath mountain bones,

Earth exhales slow, mineral, wide.

Clouds hold weight without a fall,

Stars root themselves where shadows hide.

And always, the pulse moves through all things.

One last star loses its distance,

Not from falling but drawing near.

Rain climbs from moss, from riverbeds,

Circulating as if it’s always been here.

Mountains inhale, their ribs expand,

Cradling sky in gentle accord.

Distance softens, bending in on itself,

Time thins, and moments find their word.

And always, the pulse moves through all things.

Roots listen upward, constellations down,

Desire drifts without hunger or claim.

A shared pulse threads soil and weather,

Through breath and orbit, naming the same.

A world no longer asks who holds whom,

It continues the luminous sweep.

Alive as one body, learning its balance,

In the slow, eternal work of deep.

And always, the pulse moves through all things.

Reviews

[Lorry]

We are alive on a live planet, breathing, flowing and circulating water and air through rivers that look like veins carrying blood where it is needed. The trees breathe and move, but at a pace we cannot discern and all the while we are just big creatures living and breathing amongst even smaller creatures, existing beneath our feet.
No wonder people have difficulty answering the most basic of questions... what is life?
The closest I ever got to an answer was "it is everything and more that we cannot possibly comprehend."
But ain't ya glad you are doing it right now in this space and time? 😀

[Brandon Houser]

This poem is alive. Your pulse becomes the pulse if you let it. Excellent work!

[John the Baptist]

I think this is a very spiritual poem that seeks to illustrate the unity of all things. "The pulse" is never identified, but all religions have their own names for it.

[DavidGeo]

You have good "music" in your writing style.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

"Wind slips through stones, through collarbones"
That is such a delicious line.

"Mountains inhale, their ribs expand"
even more delicious.

The different way you see the world surely gives us a treat as readers.

Thank you for this.

[Relic]

Beautifully done. The earth and nature have been here for centuries longer than humans. It knows persistence and patience better than we ever could. Nature behaves in a way that humans can learn from.

[Curly Grace]

Thank you, Relic. I love how you put that.