The Sacred Ceremony

[douglas]

The afternoon rains descend,

In mists of watery lace,

Concealing the mountain

Beneath powdery clouds.

Then the winds sweep in

Breathing their breaths of coolness

Between the dancing branches of trees

Adorned with their light emerald youth,

Pulled out lovingly by Spring.

 

And the air is purity;

Clean, cleansing, translucent silver

Curling through the atmosphere,

Right into me.

 

Concealed beneath this grey, smoky

Luminescence, I am transmogrified,

Made as pure as an angel, by

The ancient Force that brings life to Earth.

Sheltered below clouds I listen

To the gentle melodies of water

Greeting ground.

This is a sacred ceremony.

[poetjohncompton]

the outdoors & their mysteriousness.

took me to a realm of oldness, with your wordage.

 

good poem.