The Ground Talks

The ground talks.

I have heard her whispering on dark nights.

I have heard the mountains singing.

I have heard the stones praying.

Even here,

under this paved parking lot,

and even there,

under the concrete floors of that shopping mall,

the ground keeps whispering.

My mother heard it

and her mother before her.

Its whispers span generations.

My daughter sang with a mountain.

My grandson prayed with a stone.

The ground keeps spinning underneath us,

through millennia of generations,

and keeps talking.

The Web Projects of Sondra Ball and Mario Cavallini