His Dew (O'er Grass)

His Dew (O'er Grass)
~ Lessons from the Gullah Isles ~
   
The susurrations of His morning call    
reflected in the morn as algid mist    
   
In this ritual I love to watch dragonflies chase sleepless fireflies who wanted to be butterflies    
   
My feet bare, as were hers    
I mirrored my grandmother's steps as we crossed the peacock and teal tapestry    
   
My feet became bathed by Him as He had done for Peter  
An asomatous cleansing that started with our soles    
   
I often wonder why they're called blades?  
They should be called feathers  
or wings, for my heart takes flight with each crystalized step    
   
At the coup the symphony is predictable yet always delightful  
Scratches and pecks  
   
Scratches and pecks  
   
And then I watch dragonflies chase sleepless fireflies who wanted to be butterflies o'er grass  
   
Presented in the O'ER GRASSES challenge hosted by mikimoondancer