Spring rain has come,
Strewn dewy petals.
The wind has taken his broad arm and flown,
Sweeping across the tall prairie grasses
And gently laying them down.
“Come,” he says confidently,
Displaying his handiwork,
Inviting me in to a place deep in the meadow,
Cool as a canopied cot.
“Come and lie here with me for a spell.
Let me blow whispering promises over you.
Let me tickle your neck and the bottoms of your feet
And airy little breaths in your ear.
Rest with me here.
Surrender the past,
Die in ecstatic fanciful bliss with me,
And let all the rusted withered mindset fall,
Newness is here in the dew and my breeze,
And within you.
Wisdom is there
To bring peace and wholeness.
The kingdom within
Will never insult your soul.
Come and dance.
Let me spin you, and twirl and dip
Until you are dizzy and swooning in love
And want only to lie with me.”