Sometimes I lie perfectly still, And open my arms in the midst of green, Where sunlight lingers upon the leaves, And shade whispers sweet nothings. The damp earth holds my body, Like the warm seethe of a womb, Cradling and thrumming in repose. Birdcalls jump from branch to branch, Living notes in a restless symphony, A murmur of life floating Through the tangled vines and flowers, The buzzing bees and flitting moths, Settling into the spaces within. I can hear the hush of life, Painting vibrant secrets in the still air As I linger, floating, awash in green.

• Anne Sexton