a poem, of sorts, by Susan Todd Martin

The Song of Leaping Doe

I lie my weary body down,

Here, on your soft blanket of green.

Giving my burning bones to the mighty oak that will sprout,

Here, in the cradle of my rib cage.

May my sorrow die,

Here, on this hilltop where I lay.

May the images of death I see

Be forever shuttered by your clouds.

Let blow Your angry winds and

Pour your rain, Great Father,

May my sloughing skin

Nourish this earth that gave me birth.

Sink me deep in the black dirt, for the insects,

That feed the mighty bear and her cubs.

Let the morning sun come up to warm my patch of ground,

Bringing flowers to feed the butterfly, and bee…

And as they dance in your sun’s rays of hope,

May Your heart kindly remember me.

©SusanToddMartin2024 All Rights Reserved