This Land

This land longs for my weight,
wishes for my breath,
yearns for my voice.
The wind is singing me to it,
the grasses waving me welcome.

This land gave me life
and abides in me.
Here, I am needed
and must stay.

My feet will walk this earth
where I am known.
I will rest in the shade
by the creek;
breathing damp air
on soft skin.

Here, I will crumble into dust
and become, once more,
this land that knows me.

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