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I raised up my arms
And touched the see-through breezes
With fingers painted blue,
The blue of skies.
I was jubilant and in love
With the changing season
The red-winged blackbird
The cold, wet grasses that cradled my feet.
I said:
"Mother! I love you! Thank you! I love you!"
And somehow, the Earth responded,
For I was still cradled,
The season was still changing,
The blackbird still sang,
And it all kept turning and being
And this existence, this life, this love
In that singular moment
Was too much.
I crumpled,
I pressed my hands against the cold, wet grasses,
And Momma Earth cradled me
As She always has
And asked nothing in return.
by Sarah Diemer - 4-22-10