In this green forest, there is a sweet dampness;
blossoms dropping jewels of spent raindrops.
On this path, soft with cushion of moss and fallen leaves,
my world whispers passion with the voice of a lover.
This is where my soul awakens. This is where I know,
while watching a flower petal fold itself forward,
painting pollen against the back of an unsuspecting bee;
all the Earth depends on every little heartbeat.
Here, on the green altar of our one Earth,
everything fits. It all moves together in a plan
no man could invent, no magician could conjure,
no eye could deny, no war could alter.
We are all held in the hands of one great inventor.
Whether you call it Mother, Spirit, Survival, or God;
you and I are playing a part in one Masterful plan,
and all life depends on every little heartbeat.
© Shirley Alexander
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Comments about this poem (The Awakening by Shirley Alexander )
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 March 1934 – 31 May 2009)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
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