Saturday, February 10, 2018

snowflakes






Dizzy,
dying,
walking,
free.

My soul
drifts,
like snowflakes,
falling,
faster,
the air I breathe
fills my lungs,

my lungs . . .

The sun hides
its weary face,
yet the trees
are blanketed,
safe,
secure,
nurtured,
and sound -
is resounding
in my head,
a boomerang,
sonic booms,
supernovas,
of electric light,
the breath of those
that created
this,
have settled upon my eyelashes
like confetti on New Years Eve,
wide,
white,
wondrous,
and wild.

I can hear them landing,
upon my face,
wet

upon my head,
hallowed

upon my skin,
welcome.

And I bear witness to this day,
this season,
my body sings,
my feet, electric,
my eyes,
shining,
the dearest of eves.

My Lord,

I am born,
birthed,
re-birthed,
and my soul,

cries out
in unison,
with the silence
of this most holy sky.




© Photos and words Susan Marie

Post a Comment