Holy Nature Paula Birthday

In that cathedral, earth and sky conspire to bless her passing year; each heartbeat is a psalm of green, each smile the sacrament of cheer.

Candles made of pollen glow on mushrooms like a quiet throng; bees compose a low Requiem, then dance the verses of the sun. Holy Nature Paula Birthday

Friends arrive—fox, and crow, and child— their laughter peals like chapel bells; they stitch a garland for her hair, and stories bloom in joyous swells. In that cathedral, earth and sky conspire to

Night lays down its velvet veil, stars like votives, steady, far; Paula breathes the sacred hush— the world a liturgy of star. Night lays down its velvet veil, stars like

Paula walks where moss is holy, bare feet tracing root and rhyme; her breath a bell, the stream her choir, each fallen branch a measure of time.

At the meadow’s edge the river speaks in syllables of glass and song; Paula listens, offering thanks— the current carries it along.