A Quiet Wildness

Dancing naked in the rain.

As if the sky wore a skirt woven of dewdrops and air, a fabric made of mist lifted and rippled through the morning chill, swirling and pirouetting through the roses and ferns, drifting through the tips of the pines, and slicking the new green leaves of the eucalyptus trees.

Mother Earth was dancing, exhaling her relief for this moment of respite.

Her sodden breath, redolent with soft sage fuzzed with dewdrops, and wet dust and tuberose engulfed me.

I drew her deep into my lungs, thrilling at the quiet wildness of the morning, falling into the mystery of the mystics of the ages.

The cycle is eternal.

Life, death, re-seeding.

And it is so much vaster than we will ever know.

But for now, I, too, can dance, naked in the fog, clothed only in Mother Nature’s robes, her tears clinging to my hair, like tiny diamonds, her breath pebbling my skin.

I can drink it all in and taste her very essence, even knowing that I am only sipping of the vessel of Her eternal being.

I hope you enjoyed this moment of dancing in the rain with me. You might also like:

Erika Burkhalter is a yogi, neurophilosopher, cat-mom, photographer, and lover of travel and nature, spreading her love and amazement for Mother Earth’s glories, one photo, poem or story at a time. (MS Neuropsychology, MA Yoga Studies). Erika is also an editor for Dharma Talk.

Photos and poem ©Erika Burkhalter. All rights reserved.