Wednesday, July 11, 2012


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