Saturday, February 14, 2009

thine Holy water

Tiny pieces of sand,
flecks spread across the land.
Eroding solvent swept,
springs seeping the depth.
The shaman's gait flowing,
consciousness, subtle glowing.
Wind sweeping through the mane,
toes squishing muddy grain.
Where shore and river merge
the spirit feels the urge.
The same flows through the veins,
blood thumping bathe the brain.
Whitewash blasts into the air,
refreshing soulful dare.
Mists recede to a dream,
like time, a constant stream.
Now the midst of winter,
vector slowed, it splinters.
Fragmented in the mind,
its form, only one kind.
Dynamic blanket sows,
the countless seeds bestowed.
Waiting to tilt on end,
cycle renewed again.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...