In the Grasslands of my Soul, I...

(Buttercup meadow behind the house in which we used to live - I miss it...)

~000~

In the Grasslands of my Soul, 

I sink into the deep grass, 

Into buttercups and daisies.

The soil is a warm bed.

I feel supported, held.

Overhead the clouds scud by, 

Sun playing peek-a-boo with Earth.

I hear the drone of bees,

See a flash of insect wings.

I breathe deep... and long... and slow...

Time stands still.

I am again the cute 3-year-old

Running up the slope to home.

I am again the plain 8-year-old

Rolling back down.

I am again the serious teenager

Avidly reading Hardy and Woolf.

I am again the mother

Delighting as my children find

Grassland joy for themselves.

And I am Me, here now,

A Woman of the Earth.

She with the Wild Soul,

who has walked tall in the Desert,

who was named in the Forest,

who was lost and alone in the Ocean,

who found her purpose on the Mountain,

And who has now come Home.