When you are told that I am dead . . .. . .
do not believe it.
Walk among the trees . . .
I will speak to you in the soft mystery of the winds.
Touch a leaf sprinkled with sunshine . . .. . .
and you will be touching me.
Pick up a smooth worn stone and throw it . . .. . . far into the sea.
That will help you to understand that I am not dead.
Whether I am in your hands or in the sea
I'm a child of the changing earth . . . . changed and free.
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