Tiptoeing out the door
tiny diamonds waves
lapping at my bare feet
we must take care of Her.
The Earth is our mother
we must take care of Her."
This iconic native American ballad
Hums over and over in my head
My gaze takes in the wintergreen garden
splashed in sunlight, turquoise skies,
and even the stinky garbage truck, snorting
and groaning by the roadside
"Thank You Divine Mother Earth"
I whisper prayerfully
Sun moves towards its zenith
at the opposite end of the garden
lacey black shadows veil
sacred mother's beauty
A pair of perky cardinals
swoosh past me
surprisingly close
Their wings covered with
"Thank you too!" I declare
with arms outstretched
marvelous vastness
my face a glowing morning star
I wait expectantly, for my
bright red sunrise kiss
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And, one of the hazards of barefoot grass adventures in Florida and here in Texas, is stepping on a fire ant mound. Thankfully, I never did.
Ron