The grass has grown around the stones.
It’s like a marshy land now with only creatures
that come out without being seen.
The only sign that they are there is the sway of the wild leaves
here and there
or an occasional sound calling out to each other.
Maybe it’s a warning that I’m watching them.
If only they know that I still know the path exists underneath,
that it’s familiar like the lines on my palms. Every curve,
This is beauty.
This space to share it with so many
and just let it be, a haven for unbound forms.
Where they go in and out of so many closed doors.
A bird calls out among the trees
and so many answer.
I hold my breath and listen, beginning to walk
among the sounds and sink
between each stop
when they breathe.
c.r. Malintha Perera 2015