a trinity for the worst of me.

twenty four and,
in my long flower skirt,
tripod: head to living room floor, knees to elbows, soles to the ceiling --
i remember the first time my paradigms shifted.

then:
carpet draft sole, stilled to crickets and stars,
every type of grounded earth has to offer.

now:
a sunshine dance for the rest of this day, all Our days, songs of warm light and You

always
Your wind;
night breeze to
drafty Thanksgiving bedrooms to
right side up.