Spirit Fire

by Donna Mitchell-Moniak

Draw a circle, yet nothing is contained.
Make a dot, and nothing is signified.
A line cannot get you from here to there
Because there is nowhere to go.

The seas of reality parted me
And everything rushed out.
The scent of a single raindrop tickled me.
I swooned and the seas opened again.

Like the tides rolling in
Obliterating all shapes and contours,
In vastness my mind is denuded of its stubble.

I am made new, over and over again.
Creation awakening.

journal: July 16, 2006