The rain came gently.
I didn’t see it first—I smelt it, heard it, felt it,
whispering through leaves.
I was standing beside a blackthorn in full flower.
Not hiding from the rain. Just listening.
To the hush.
To the memory in my bones.
David Abram once wrote, “Listen in every direction, and with your whole body.”
And I wonder if deep down, we never really forgot how.
Maybe we’ve just been listening to the wrong things.
What’s calling to you quietly today?