Moss under feet
I caress you by running.
Rain on the skin
a cherished delight that
my exalted body meets
with salty sweat.
The curve of the root
my perfect shelter
gently I sleep
softly I weep
where is the cradle
of a child without mother?
I do not know the answer
but I know that the cold air
at night is your voice
singing the lullaby I
faintly remember
the kiss
that makes me want to live
so that the robin knows
here is one who has heard the melody
and can intuit the harmony
so that eternity knows
here is one who is ready to
give it all away
because of the memory
and that sweet kiss
the blanket over the cradle
dreams curled under roots
sent into the rustling night.
And here they dance
opposum and deer
and there they sing
talon and wing
the heron floats
and dips in
the duck plunks under and up
the child and the tree
holding
your memory.
—
Justus Wachs is a participatory action researcher, poet, and PhD candidate at McGill University in Montreal. Combining contemplative practices with creative methods like poetry, storytelling, and meditation, his work explores how inner transformations of values and worldviews can inspire collective action and systemic change. With a decade of environmental activism and creative facilitation, Justus engages with sustainability-focused activists and organizations to foster transformative learning and address socio-ecological crises.
