that ground down there.
So lowly, so strangely religious.
Then the fire. It came.
Fires of grief from every direction.
I was burned down to ash
until my face had to meet it.
My face,
it twisted into both defense and release
when it had come forcefully down.
And only when face to face with it
could I see its latent fertility.
My knees and shins laid to rest.
My forehead kissed its surface.
My little ashen body cradled in its earth.
Both life and death in one sweeping motion.
To now find myself newly pruned and planted.
With fresh new skin that covers
a newly attentive posture.
My tongue
scorched by hot coal
cries anew, "You are able!"
Relearning steps.
Walking humbly and keeping eyes to the ground.
Eyes to the ground.
You will lead me.
You will lead.
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