One year of the elements – introduced and induced, one by one.
Three hundred sixty-five lessons, beneath three hundred and sixty-five suns.
The wind was the first among them to rise, to beckon, whispering my name,
as a herald, a signal, a caution, a sign, that nothing would ever be the same.
Next to call was the earth, pulling my roots down to their final depths –
teaching me of the magical balance that she so responsibly kept.
Just as I was starting to wander and wonder over this mystery,
I was temporarily enchanted by the cleansing power of the sea.
But before I could drink the waters of life and learn how to dive,
a fire broke out within my depths, and raged until it burned me alive.
One by one, my idols fell and my knees were painted red,
as the flames consumed every lie on which my ego fed.
Not until my life fell as ashes through my tattered mind,
did I find the hidden courage to leave the old and dead behind.
I picked up the residual pieces and held them in my hands,
and willed my bloody, shaking knees to finally try to stand.
But just then I was sent adrift on a tsunami so surreal
that I finally forgot to think and learned how to feel.
The waters carried me out to sea and dropped me on a distant shore;
and as I looked around I knew that I’d been here once before.
“This is the island of forgotten souls, where the pieces are safely kept”,
I heard a familiar voice whisper, as I kissed the sand and wept.
Only then did I realize that through it all I’d been asleep,
and that the only things I desired were those I need not seek.
Not ready to forget it all and awaken with a scream,
I decided that I’d stay a while and help to heal the dream.
© 2017 Cristen Rodgers