On a farm in the coastal plains of southeast Alabama, I sat in the center of three adjacent tree stumps - my throne.
My castle was a canopy of leaves and my walls were mortared in root systems and vines.
Digging with mud-covered hands I became privy to the unseen worlds at my fingertips. The mud opened my eyes. Before, I simply looked; now I could see.
A bone, a fragment, a sheet of bark… Each of these housed the thunder of the whole universe.
I’m still that boy digging with eyes wide open listening for thunder.
“Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these dry bones so that they may come alive.”