We travel with our broken places
through wild mint, grapevines, angelica
shadows on the heart still long
healing, we’ve been told, takes its own time
the wish we’ve lost must first be walked
under the tender grace of olive groves
to the steady click of crickets
I have walked to mounds of stones
piled high with hope
and the same simple prayer;
to soothe these wounds
nature intended us to walk with
