It’s how the sunlight touches the trees,
painted in gold in a summertime afternoon.
Their fallen sisters, chopped
Turning into altars to the Mothers,
covered in green leafs and flowers.
It’s how the bees and butterflies
run, swiftly through the winds.
From sage to mistletoe and rosemary,
in this holy garden, away.
Spreading life and seed to the Earth.
It’s how the quiet rain falls,
and little drops bathe
the world bellow.
As we stand here,
cleansed and bare.
😍😍😍