Resurrection

Resurrection

I came home to myself

in a summer meadow,

surrounded by swaying grasses

and hot sunshine

watching as butterflies

opened a portal to infinity.

 

I spent three days in that place,

without food.

Alone within a circle of rocks,

Wicklow granite and marble stones

polished by the meadow’s river.

 

I watched bees 
journey from purple clover flower

to purple clover flower.

Tall strawberry blonde grasses

with plump seed heads

rhythmically

swaying in a Southeasterly breeze.

 

A gathering of sensual dancers

that stood at eye-level with me.

Their supple spines back-bending in sychronisation.

Occasional ravens traversed overhead

as the sun travelled westwards

until it descended below the wood line,

when sparrow vespers and twilight falls

called me from the dreamtime into the sleeptime

under the great arc of the Milky Way

in a new moon sky.

 

Each day break as bright and as warm as the other.

The dawn sun vaporizing the night’s dewdrops.

Waves of sunshine lapped against my skin

after the sun passed over the top of an Elderflower tree

on its journey towards a cloudless noon.

 

I lowered myself to the ground

and surrendered to the embrace of the earth.

in the heat of the afternoon of the third day.

The horseflies stayed away.

 

I died, there,

in the pure ecstasy of that place.

A blanket of light enfolded my skin

and the sun above fired me within.

I wanted for nothing.

I was home and cradled.