Sky says, freedom is blue
Rose garden blooms.
Earth says, life is green
Monson season begins.

We release the old
The new radiant beneath…

The storyteller, daugther of the sky  
Dancing around the fire,
The grandmother,
Who reminds us
Of the childhood
We left behind.

Above,
Stars, moon, milky way
Watching human race
Moving back and forth,
map in hands.
Step after step,
not knowing what comes next.

Above,
The coming rain breaks
the edge of solitude,
Drop by drop,
not knowing where silence goes.

Below,
Earth, roots, leaves holding us
In a sacred space, called life.

Below,
Fertility is a force,
Reborn awaken is a new generation.
Creative enlightenment
Is the home of silence.

The grandmother is old,
But stars in her eyes
Are ageless.

She seems content, quiet, humble,
Her dance has come to an end,
Fire inviting her, to cross over.
Her hands above her head,
gracefully folded toward the sky.  
Her body bended, knees on a ground.
Her heart joyful,
Of going to a new space.

Sky, earth,
Stars and roses
Watch her
Goes.
Slowly,
Into the grace.

Her shadow disappears
In dark silence.

What is appear,
Does not called final.

Follow the silence,
To a new space.
She is waiting for us.

© Serena Devi, November 2010

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