She Who Speaks with Leaves

Last year for Juneteenth I went to Historical Stagville because research guided me there. I found out that this land holds the hands of my ancestors. A little over a year later, I returned. With reverence in my heart, I walked where my ancestors once worked, with honor in every step. I sit in gratitude and celebrate them by holding space.

I am the love offering.

I am the answered prayer.

I rise from sacred roots.

I shine with ancestral care.

They dreamed of my becoming.

They sang my soul awake.

I am their hope, their healing,

The love they dared to make.

They imagined me into existence.

There was a tree that called out to me. The energy vibrated so strong, like a magnet it drew me closer..

The tree stood so strong and rooted, I knew it carried more than age—

it held the breath of my ancestors,

and in its stillness, their spirit spoke to mine.

I Am the Plant Whisperer

Daughter of Earth

Born of root and rain.

The wind has braided stories

Through the strands of my name.

I walk where soft moss listens,

Where petals lift to see.

The forest knows my footsteps

She’s the mirror holding me.

I am daughter of the Earth, of course

trees wrap me in stillness,

Their trunks like ancient song.

They teach me how to stand in truth

And where my soul belongs.

I speak in hush and heartbeat,

In water, stone, and flame.

The leaves respond in color,

Never needing blame or shame.

Their language is remembering,

Their message: just be still.

For spirit lives in everything

The silence, and the will.

I gather herbs like prayers,

And bloom where shadows fall.

Each seed I touch, a promise

That love still births it all.

So let me bend with branches,

And rise like reaching trees—

I am the plant whisperer,

In tune with all that breathes.

Adenike

The Plant Whisperer