Hush of Velvet Green
Hush of Velvet Green
Bending close,
I brush the silver leaves,
soft as the inside of a dream.
For a moment
I am smaller than myself,
drawn into a hush of velvet green—
a nest, a fold, a secret room
where the world outside dissolves.
The leaves close around me
like a grandmother’s shawl,
like the arms I once longed for—
warmth steady as breath,
comfort shaped to fit my restlessness.
Here,
in this lowly patch of earth,
I remember what it is
to be held without question,
to be gathered and kept,
to rest in the quiet sanctuary
of tenderness.