🌾 When the Earth Spoke in Circles

 Summer Solstice | A Witness Poem

I stood still, and the field breathed.
No storm, no thunder, only the soft hum
of a knowing older than sound.

The wheat lay down not in defeat,
but in formation—
a whisper spun in golden ink upon her skin.

She was not speaking to us.
Not this time.
This was not meant for deciphering by men with rulers
or cameras searching for proof.

This was a reveal—
a message for the Sun,
her closest mirror, her oldest beloved.

And in the sacred fullness of solstice light
she offered up her body like a parchment
and sang:

"My body sings a harmonic of five—
a quincunx within the wheel.
Balance is restored at this node.
Proceed to the next."

The wind carried it.
Not the words, but the resonance of it—
a signal too honest to be captured,
too elegant to be interrupted.

I bowed not in worship,
but in awe—
for I had glimpsed the moment the Earth
wrote to the stars.

And to you, dear reader:
Wish her love.
Support her.
Not with slogans or silence,
but with the soft recalibration of your own field.

Let her know you are listening,
even if the message isn’t yours.
Even if the song was not sent for your ears.
You were blessed to hear it.
That is enough.