i have all the souls i need - by maggie harry

i have all the souls i need

sunrise places its hand over night’s mouth, softly but firmly, saying hush now, it’s time to end—the mother telling the son that maybe he should take a deep breath.

flowers can speak, but they won’t. they’re far, far too bashful. at the dinner party, all flowers do is whisper to one another: you sure do look beautiful today, my love. i smile because if i listen closely enough, i can hear them. ... 

grass is a fighter. he is yanked on and pulled apart, but just keeps coming back stronger. he is there for me when i am nervous on my first date, in the park, where he selflessly allows me to peel him away to occupy my shaking hands.

a tree is a writer at heart. the tree gives me shade and a piece of fruit and a pencil for me to dream up stories with and paper to be marked upon. the way a tree will always know what i need and the way a tree will always give it to me.

dirt waits and sees if i liked the movie first, before telling me if she did. i am raining, dirt will turn to mud for me.

i curse snow, but he stands his ground. i respect that. snow may be difficult, but he’s the one who gives me the nod of approval when i step onto him in my far too large galoshes instead of uggs like all the other girls.

as hard as she tries, rain will never be able to smile. the best i can do for her is dance with her and yell out to her “you are loved!”

i have all the souls i need and i couldn’t ask for them if i tried, because even the wildest imaginations cannot dream up the wonders souls like those possess. —Maggie Harry