In the sweet dawn
I sit on the wet earth.
The Holy One comes.
She sniffs the grass, the lighting day,
lays languid at my feet.
turns toward me and all the galaxies.
lifts her head and laughs,
laughs into the sky, her eyes sparkling at the fading stars,
lifts her head and laughs into the whole day before us.
I breath, gentle.
Mary Elyn Bahlert, 6/1/16