Water-drop me, unsuspecting,
into a world of clarity
where all the stories of our humanity
hit fertile Earth, honoring gravity,
and in their falling, vibrate Love
made of the dew of dreams,
which, set to vaporous music,
rouse me from sleep, it seems,
into a world where all is wonder
and words are what we eat
with music as our canopy,
music, the forest floor at our feet.
The trees, the loving arms of God
which catch our stories to tell,
stretch from their roots,
bridge Earth and sky,
and make both heaven and hell
the playground where all nourishment
comes from who we are
and fear and tears are stories
bright as any star.
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