Saturday, April 18, 2015


 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   

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