Grace and Peace to you.
The moon, half dressed,
slips out of bed with me.
Earth holds me in her palm,
each step, carries me out of the house.
First light leans easy against the trees,
lays an arm around my shoulders
and walks with me.
The air, the breath of the world,
cold and hard but willing,
wants to plunge deep into me,
and plunges. The morning,
wearing nothing but the universe,
opens her robe and wraps it around me.
The creator of all things,
the world gathered in her hands,
looks at this day and smiles
and leans a little bit forward
and says, “Let’s do this.”
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