Wednesday, November 16, 2011


I lay prone   
            nose to mother earth   
                        a worshipper submitting   
                                    passion and passiveness     
                                              flowing into her with each drop of rain   
I roll   
            onto my back   
                              opening up   
                                 matching my heartbeat to the sky’s percussion

I sit   
            offering my face     
                        to wind and rain   
                                    drops melt my sorrows away   
                                              purifying me with the holiest of waters  
I stand   
            with arms outstretched   
                        conducting lightning like a symphony   
                                    waves and waves roll over me   
                                                cleansing me of life’s dust and debris

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman   

No comments:

Post a Comment