Who might I be, if I let it go
And let it seep deep into the earth?
What would be left of me?
On my skin? Would I be cold? Wet?
And would the earth be more fecund with the sacrifice?
Would flowers suddenly grow at my feet?
The earth wants dead things, God replies.
Give it what it wants.
A short prayer/poem..
A short prayer/poem..
A short prayer/poem..
What would you like to let go of today?