The tender flames of passion lick the soft and infinite folds of my soul
fueling outrage that neighboring beings blithely deny reverence for time.
A wasp threatening the tide…
the purity of life pouring, shining, roaring, thundering beauty and order.
So many blind to the power tamed to the word and the wonder.
Look them full in the face:
Malevolence made minute and laid bare.
Peace piercing the artifice of imagined power.
Earth, oblivious to the vile vicissitudes which squeak and pass,
shrugs off her tattered cloak and, again,
rises in her endless cycle of rebirth
while time unfolds infinite millennia of her
bathing in tsunamis and floods,
flashing lightening bolts and forest fires,
breathing hurricanes and trade winds and
settling in earthquakes and volcanoes.
The messiness of her denizens washed away, once again she orders the chaos
and welcomes new faithful and fractious creatures to do as they will.
With the bravery of honesty, bare of pretense or pleasing,
love for life and creation returns.
We relax in awe and humility at the wonder of life.
Grateful. Reverent for it all.
– Heather Carlile