the Mother . . . Our Mother . . .

[Bill]

the Mother . . . Our Mother

 

there was a silence upon the meadow

i could feel it resonating upon the whole of me

 

Brother Wind stood in stillness

as the storm approached in silence

 

creeping into my consciousness

there came an awakening

as all the Trees of the wood

offered themselves in reverence

to the ballet of fragrant Wildflowers permeating our senses

and the Mother’s impending fury

 

as the Tempest began her approach

across the waters

there was a billowing of clouds

that tested and proved the oneness

of the Ocean, The Beach and the Meadow and i

 

the Grasses, the Weeds and the Trees

began to sway in a hypnotic trance

and danced

to her raw yet pure beauty

and she ingratiated and adorned them with her kisses

as if they were long lost lovers

 

and i danced as well

soulfully

as i became the breath of all things

and i too kissed her

and she kissed me in return

yes, i was being kissed

by the lips of the Mother

my Mother

your Mother

our Mother

 

naturally

 

(c) 2010 : William S. Peters, Sr.