Friday, March 27, 2020


We are born in a whoosh of water,
gasp in our first breath, then we cry:
water, essential, from our very first day.

Through the medicine wheel, I journeyed,
dipped my toes in a magical sea,
soul thrumming with the song of the waves,
my sign, my element, my spirit's home:
Mother Ocean.

Above, the sky, the vast expanse,
curving over all -
the great blue bowl of ether.
Underfoot, the earth,
brown and humble and mothering.

I bow to you, Sky. I sing with you, Wind.
I dance in the rain, laughing,
the rush of raindrops on my face
cleansing my spirit,
washing all negative energy away.

When I am clean,
when the Great Bowl above grows dark,
I creep homeward, settle beside the fire,
remember the winking stars,
the wheeling seabirds,
the many rivers and beaches
I have loved,
all the beauty gracing
this span of time
that is still mine.

In memory,
my grandmother's long, white finger
points at the glass of water
on her bedside table
as she lies dying.
"The dying always ask for water,"
she had told me, and it is true.
Water: a single tear
rolling down her cheek
as we said goodbye.

To the earth, I bow
in gratitude, in homecoming.
It waits to receive me, in turn,
when that final moment comes,
when I will become one with
All That Is.

First, there is water.
At the end,
only earth and sky.

A poem from 2015,  for the open link at earthweal.


  1. Wow. Wonderful! So wonderful, in fact, that the phrase "creep home" seems out of place! Wouldn't you flow or glide or hobble?

  2. Ocean is the beginning and end, isn't it? No wonder the Greeks imagined Oceanus as this river encircling the globe, lacing all our beginnings and endings. Amid all the fine watery elements on this poem (gathered in the medicine wheel) there is that single finger pointing the way. It points too at rapture, the mortal way of dying; beauty is so much more so in grief. Thanks for lapping ocean majesties at all of our feet -- Brendan

  3. Ah, the mention of your grandmother's tears is really poignant. Powerful writing!

  4. You have traveled a wondrous journey in life, water is definitely your major element. This poem speaks volumes. I am crying, tears are cleansing.

  5. Omg Sherry. I'm so grateful to your brain cells which, by the way, are still very active. I love this poem. It's sensitivity to earth, sky and water is wonderful and how you connected this to your grandmother, to life and death superb. Truly a great poem.

  6. I found this truly moving and beautiful Sherry, and relevant to my own feelings and exhaustion of feelings. I especially like the way water runs through it and rather than washing away, connects.

  7. This really tugged at my heart Sherry! The last memory of your grandmother is soul stirring. Truly beautiful!!

  8. This is beautiful, Sherry. The passage about your grandmother is very moving, that "long, white finger" draws the reader right into the scene.

  9. An amazing poem, Sherry! I love the water and air sounds in the opening stanza, and the wonderful descriptions of all kinds of water, the colours, as in the ‘great blue bowl of ether’ and the earth, ‘brown and humble and mothering’. These lines are so poignant, I had a tear myself:
    ‘First, there is water.
    At the end,
    only earth and sky.’
    Yesterday we received of the death of a friend, but we don’t know yet if was connected to the virus – he was ten years younger than us.


I am currently experiencing problems with my comments vanishing into the ether, or going to your Spam folders- even sites I have visited for years. The problem is with wordpress sites and those with Akismet security. I try various methods of giving my sign in info until something works. I want you to know I AM visiting everyone and trying my hardest to comment. Smiles.