At the End, Only Earth and Sky

 

Water comes first, then we follow,

gasp in a big breath of air, and then we cry.

Thus we are introduced to the world

as it always was and always will be.

Water: essential, blessed,

part of our beings from our very first day.

Through the Sacred 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 air, the vast expanse,

curving over all

the great blue bowl of aether,

underfoot, the earth, brown and humble

and mothering.

I bow to you, Sky, I sing with you, Wind,

I dance in the rain, laughing

at the great clap of thunder,

feel the rushing whoosh of wind on my face,

raindrops falling on my spirit,

cleansing me anew,

healing the riven places, washing

all negative energy away.

When I am clean,

when the Great Bowl Above grows dark,

I creep homeward,

settle beside a crackling fire,

remember the winking stars,

the great wheeling seabirds,

wonder at the beauty gracing this span of time

that is still mine.

To the earth I bow, in gratitude,

in homecoming.

It waits to receive me

when that final moment comes,

when I will become one

with All That Is.

First, there was water,

at the end

only earth and sky.

One from 2015 for the open link at Desperate Poets

I would welcome a huge rainfall now, at least a week's worth. The hedges and bushes are dying, the earth is dry all the way down, we are on third level water restrictions (though our thousands of tourists are still having their showers!) Wildfires are still burning. And rain, from all indications, is months away. Yikes.