text: Divine nature has a way of bringing things together in harmony’s best interest. The way a baby’s first cry plants a new seed in its mother’s mind. The way egrets sit on the horns of Buffalos, acting as their protectors, as small in stature as they may be. The way fish dance in an out of sea anemones, but never get shocked. Nature brings together even the animals who believed they have outsmarted their mother. Even her most challenging children. Nature has a daughter with hair holds her secrets. When the wind blows through it sometimes you hear the whispers. Pools of amber lie in her eyes and catch heat waves for a cloudy day. Her legs are made from ivy vines, wrapped and braided to give her strength. Soft green leaves stretch up her skin, making her soft and cool to the touch. And you want to touch her. Nature’s daughter has a clock for a heart and she can hear the time all the time. She can hear when it’s time to pack her things and carry herself to a place that’s louder than the ticking in her ribs. She wishes she could reach inside and bend the hands and smash the face and stop the seconds. Nature doesn’t know time. Nature’s daughter has plums on her cheeks that only grow redder. She wishes ivory soap could wash them away but they come from underneath her skin. Nature’s daughter is selfish. She wants the honey to drip from her lips but doesn’t know that too much will stick them together. She wants the sun to warm her skin but doesn’t know that too much will turn it to char. She wants the most of everything to herself but doesn’t know that too much of everything feels an awful lot like nothing. Nature has a son. He is a tree that wind cannot weather and time only makes more beautiful. His roots grow deeply and stretch to drink anything good that flows through the soil. His body is made of music. It is crafted with a steady hand like fingers pushing a bow against strings. His teeth are piano keys and as his lips open and close, breathy melodies escape, leaving the world with a new song to sing. If you look inside his ears you might see the ocean inside his head. If you lean on his shoulder for a while you might be lucky enough to hear it. It’s mighty and it roars with the marvelous weight of the tide crashing and receding. Sometimes he believes it’s more noise than he’s capable of containing. But the morning always comes and puts the stirring swell to sleep. The length of his back feels like a river stone against your hands. His eyelashes dance like fairy wings as his eyes dart back and forth between yours. He sees you. He sees you for everything that you are. He sees that the fire in your eyes is turning into embers, but he still holds his hands to the ashes to warm them. He sees that the stains of black under your eyes are spreading down your cheeks, but he still kisses your face. He sees the empty burrows inside your veins, but he still tangles his roots with yours to send them pulsing to life. He sees you. Do you see him? Divine nature has a way of bringing things together for harmony’s best interest. She carefully picks which of her children to plant in the same patch. This is where they prosper and bloom. This is where her ivy wraps around his river stones and the hands of her clock get tangled in his roots and the ticking stops. This is where her leaves float in his waves, taken under by the force but never tearing. This is where honey flows between his piano keys. This is where harmony can lay its head. This is where nature can close her eyes and smile that her children, as different as they are, have found each other. This is where we grow our garden.