Chapter 5 · Nature Speaks the Divine

Let it Speak

Cristina do Valle Mirrors of the Infinite

Let it speak, Like wind through palms abruptly still; Needle stars that pierce my sight, Like ballerina leaps and bounds And huffs and puffs from Angel calls… Let it call, To turn my head a million times, And squeeze me through an hourglass, With fingerprints in blurry streaks, A grounding beat that won’t relent. A heart that fills with red my inner mind, And calms the beast with kinder words, And dims the hunger of the feast, And laughs at the absurd. So let it speak, And break the barriers of sound, It comes too near…”Child, calm down”, It mustn’t interfere with sacred talk amongst adults, And tides of sudden winds, And leaves on outside walls that dot the sky. A web glitters in the sunset’s rays, Breathing in and out, so brave! Arms wide open to the gentle breeze. An imperfect heart, locked in a geometric shape, An Angel playing harp, letting the light escape. And all the while the spider waits, While Sun and breeze command her maze, Until the lightning gently fades.

Reflection

This poem came from a time when I started paying attention to the subtleties I used to overlook. I wrote it as an invitation, to myself more than anyone else, to listen without resistance. Instead of dismissing the small sounds, the whispers in the wind, or the rustling of leaves on a wall, I let them become messages.

I remember sitting in stillness and noticing the way everything seemed alive: spiderwebs shimmering like portals, a breeze playing the role of a gentle guide, light slipping through branches as if it had a personality of its own. In that moment, I felt like the natural world was speaking to me, not through words, but through presence.

The lesson of this piece is that spirit is always communicating, but we rarely slow down enough to hear it. The “barriers of sound” I describe aren’t just external noise; they’re the layers of thought and judgment that keep us from noticing life’s intelligence. Once I let go of trying to interpret or control, I realized the wind, the sun, the spider, the music of nature, they were all part of one great conversation.

The distortion this poem helped dissolve was the belief that the spiritual is separate from the ordinary. Growing up, I subconsciously thought sacredness was reserved for prayer, meditation, or rare mystical experiences. But this poem came from a realization that every moment is a doorway, every simple scene a temple if we’re willing to see it. The spider weaving her web became a teacher, the wind a messenger, the light a blessing.

“Let It Speak” feels like a small, quiet poem, but it holds a huge shift in perception. It’s about humility; realizing that the world around me is alive, intelligent, and always speaking, whether I’m paying attention or not. Writing it helped me slow down, breathe, and listen, not just with my ears but with my heart.

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