I was born here, and can bear witness to the bouquet of earth, soft upon my small, pressed feet. O rivers, who gives you the sun in your turn but the stone calls that comes deepened?

Time breaks on us, but my heart will remain the beach, watching as our bodies walk along chasing stones into the wind. These fine movements of love, like grass roots in dark earth, will answer to face the light.

Let’s go toward the day, let’s treasure the dance with our thoughts of water.

• Muriel Rukeyser