There's a grass roots movement afoot. The sprouting seeds of each one's story are nurtured by familiar remembrances. Taproots take hold in new layers of awakening's calling.
With an ear to the ground the tremor of distant sound is sensed. Within listening's stillness movement stirs; something like the thundering of buffalo is felt.
An unseen train rumbles over the grassy plain.
With a sunflower's patience awakening's bloom awaits. Its train arrives when we can turn our heads to see, like a sunflower tracking the motion of the sun.
