Gnarled branches reaching out from the cadavers of trees lying in the dirt.
Moss existing quietly, curling and creeping over the course of weeks.
Ferns that shiver close to the ground making shade for salamanders.
Everything crumbling and thriving simultaneously.
“Be like the woods”, I thought.
“Even when your limbs are missing and you aren’t given enough room, you can still be stunning, assured and nurturing new parts of yourself. Always.
Peace does not mean never struggling or feeling ache.
Peace is the accepting hurts and joys will coexist without you helping.
Peace is the quiet knowing will Survive it.”