Grain hugs the field's curved body,|
its undulating dance shimmers with
A rocky ledge holds water in its palm.
I look down to the sea and for a moment
Neptune's hair parts, showing his nebulous face,
soon gone except for delicate water
At the horizon, ruffled clouds
paint a remarkable, craggy face
full of soul.
A breeze touches my neck,
a promise from the whispering Poplar.
Soft winds calm the beating
pulse in an adagio of notes so
erotic, only the heart could know.
This is nature's art--
Mother Nature's living language,
instantaneous with rich giving.
She shows herself to us,
sharing the essence of her being--
her sensuous dance, hypnotic scent and
constant, silken wind.
This sacred dance, ever changing from
birth to death...birth to death...the metronome
of our existence until we finally step through the
scrim into the arms of the universe and its
eternal breath of being.