worship

I dance robed in garlands
petals falling from my hair,
like some wild changeling child
frolicking in a faerie ring  

I look up at the moon mother of the night
bathed in silver light
singing with the crickets
that serenade the night

I find my worship here
among the flowers as they bloom  
sheltered by an ancient tree nestled
safely in her roots

the sun kisses soft my brow
the breeze a lullaby doth sing
and rouse the heady smell of rain
that calls my voice to sing