Monday, April 26, 2010

Sacred Space

I walk barefoot through dew covered grass. The long wet blades curve around my foot, tickling the tops of my feet.

The dew is cold and yet it feels so refreshing on my tired aching feet.

The path winds in and out of trees. Leaves rustle overhead, dripping drops of dew like a gentle summer rain.

I feel cleansed, renewed.

The ground around me is splattered with splurts of color – dainty flowers poke through the green grass in hues of blue, purple, and yellow. They decorate the ground like confetti tossed about.

The trees too are full of life, but in animal form. Birds hop about as I move closer to them.

The squirrel runs to the opposite side of the tree trunk hoping I won’t see him. A chipmunk climbs a stump and curiously watches to see if I’ll leave a treat for him, which of course I do.

A small toad climbs on a tree trunk, not sure where he should go, so he just stays where he is for now.

The path looks as if it comes to end. It stops in front of a wall of foliage. Branches and leaves from both sides forming a protective barrier.

But looking down, it’s clear that the path should go on. I slowly pull each branch back sending a spray of dew drops all over my feet and bare legs. I step further through the maze. Pull back another branch, take another step.

Another branch.

Another step.

Another branch.

Another step.

I emerge into the opening and there I find it, my sacred space.

My home.

2 comments:

  1. This is written about our actual ritual space in the back yard =)

    ReplyDelete